Poetic bitching

Why are we given the fate that we're given?
Some are forgotten, some are forgiven.
Some are remembered, they conquered the time,
Some - shot in the back and dumped in a mine.

Some - leisure in luxury all of their life,
Have home, and children, and a beautiful wife.
Some never get lucky, they live in despair
No money, no family, nothing to spare.

Some - beat all the odds by surviving the wreck
Some - slip on the street and end up breaking neck.
Some people though blind see the beauty around
And some have the sight, but they stare at the ground.

Some - wealthy but sick, it’s of health that they dream,
But the money can't help so they hurt and they scream.
Some - born into poverty, perfectly healthy,
Yet value it not, and they wish they were wealthy.

Some - taking advantage of people around
Some - fight till they win or they dead on the ground
Some - drink like a fish and they drown in that sea
Some - simply fed up with all that they see.

Some - ugly as hell and they hate everybody.
Some - hungry for love, but can't find anybody.
Some - pleasant but stupid, what can you do?
Some - rich and important... Hi, how do you do?

Some - ignorant bastards, leave them alone
Some - passionate lovers, they climax and moan
Some - always at hand with a stupid suggestion
And some bitch at life in a long and rhymed question.

The “critic” will whisper: the guy is a moron
His poetry sucks and the concept is stolen
I could get pissed off, but I guess that I won't
And my consolation - I rhyme, “critics” don't.