Specious conversation Of day in and day out The lives of many Concerned with who did what How he or she Said this or that
He was 45 She was 19 She did not know He had two other Lady loves
Nor, that he was 260 pounds And balding, gray haired Barely able to walk a mile She loved him for his kindness He loved her for her hips And her *******
As did he love the others For their buxom figures Alas, he did not love himself And thus he hid from them His fatal flaws Behind a screen
Joking of how stress Is more potent than His addiction To the nicotine That blackened his lungs And bragging to a young man Far more genuine Just as he wished he was
She was 36 She looked 50 She worked two jobs At 10 an hour To support her fleeting family Wishing she was struggling A bit more with finance
Wishing her son was not taken By the grasp of a depressant drug Injected in the veins Ten too many times
As did she wish She could abscond from the local crimes And live in luxury Not far away, but in a safer place
So, I told her Of my story of success And how my brother Had lived through What her son had not survived I had no words to comfort her
They were each 17 Constricted from individuality By the strong grip of capitalism
They spoke in envy Of how an older coworker Was brazen enough to be accepted For his long hair, and baggy jeans Paid more, not for his drive and resolve But his familiarity
I did not respect them Until I came to understand They only wished to be like me Untied from the system Outlandishly myself
I thought, "How tiny minds might think, In vapid ways To cope with the meaninglessness Of their existence."
Not now, though I see the truth They move through their lives Step by step, one foot ahead of the other Working toward what I have taken for granted
He asked me for a cigarette Offering his last seventy two cents
I gave it freely Not to **** him more quickly But to quell his demons So he could live another day Believing in the world Which crippled him
I have come to understand that insignificant, trivial things hold importance in numbers.
Most people live to be a part of something greater, but in recognizing the bigger picture, I have failed to see the purpose of smaller things until now. I never sought to belong. I never wished to contribute to arbitrary, mechanical actions.
However, I know now that to become greater, I must find something worth being small for.
In order to be what my identity stipulates, first I have to achieve the stature to exceed my shadow, so that I might stand tall and bask in the brightness.