There is something to be said
About the justness of this world,
For it reserves a special corner,
For absolutely everyone.

There is a corner for everyone,
Even for those who believe
That they have none.

Now this corner mayn’t be fancy,
It may lack a love seat,
And a lush carpet,
For your sock clad feet.

You may find that your corner,
Is a rather odd shape,
Of a welcome patch of cool shade,
That almost never fails,
To appear right on time,
On a hot afternoon,
Embracing the park bench,
Where you sit to vent,
While the world goes by,
Doing its busy thing.

Your corner could just as well be,
That lonesome seat in carriage three,
Of a westbound train,
Every Tuesday evening.

The point is this as it has always been –
Your corner has existed,
From the beginning, long before you did.

And when the time is right
You will find your corner,
Whether grand, or subdued,
And you will claim it,
With quiet gratitude.