On particular days,
when the weather is fine,
it is difficult to distinguish the cerulean sky
from the sea.
I stare listlessly from a window
on the 13th floor
and envy the flash
of a passing seagull.
It passes me by
as if this is all
nothing
and fades into the shoreline.
I suffer bitterly wondering if
I had been as meaningful
to someone as
this seagull had been to me.
I could be at peace knowing
I had amounted to at least that much
during my
short time here.
Perhaps then,
I could forego
the whole chirade
and let her pass me by
as if it were
all nothing.