My eyelids will pull apart because I receive a gift every morning,

It is a gift but it is made of skin, bones and muscles,

Just like me,

With a message I must decode,

Although the note however, I could not read,

Because it is not written.

I wonder to myself, “What could it say?”

Because I, for seventeen years of my life, have pondered,

Because the gift I received is called life,

And the only tool I am able to use is called living.