"It could've been worse," said the heart.
"The bullet could've missed."
**

"It could've been worse," said the flesh bathed in scarlet.
"The knife could've been blunt."
**

"It could've been worse," said the warm, warm teardrop.
"You mightn't have had a chance to spill me."
**

"It could've been worse," said God.
"In place of you, could've been a ball of flesh and blood
Stabbed before it could breathe."
**

So rejoice, O fortunate sufferer

Spill not a single drop

Your grief pales in the shadow of your neighbour's

Why then, do you weep at all?

You possess no right to react to pain

For you are not the first

You hold over your grief not the slightest claim

For people had it worse.