Living Someone Else's Life

I can at times think my life has become confused with someone else's, that somewhere there is a person awaiting the tragedy he knows he has earned, but it never arrives.  I wonder in those moments is he disappointed and how can I send him what he entitled to.  There is, on the other hand, no wonder that I have been mistakenly handed someone else's joy.  On those days I have no doubt who has earned it.  Unfortunately, this righting of the system does not occur as regularly as it might.  Nor does it stay in balance as long as it might.  I then hope whoever is living my life is appreciative of it, and I understand why he is not all that anxious to recover what has arrived at my door.