I look at them,
sharing their poems
living their lives
pouring their hearts
in this place.
They are strange and alien
engaging in weird ceremonies
where they rhyme-battle each other
and invest their emotions in things
that aren't of much consequence.
I write my things too, but I sit
in the sidelines quietly
watching while sharing a joke or two
and generally biding my time.
Do they know me?
Do they feel me?
Do they read what I give them?
Life says no.
I say no.
But the metrics on this website say yes.
Do I envy them? Do I feel envy?
If someone doesn't know how I feel
do those feelings even exist?
Eh, that's not my problem.
I'm just happy to be here.
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
I look at them,
sharing their poems
living their lives
pouring their hearts
in this place.
They are strange and alien
engaging in weird ceremonies
where they rhyme-battle each other
and invest their emotions in things
that aren't of much consequence.
I write my things too, but I sit
in the sidelines quietly
watching while sharing a joke or two
and generally biding my time.
Do they know me?
Do they feel me?
Do they read what I give them?
Life says no.
I say no.
But the metrics on this website say yes.
Do I envy them? Do I feel envy?
If someone doesn't know how I feel
do those feelings even exist?
Eh, that's not my problem.
I'm just happy to be here.
