I created my only little world order
a comfort collected against disorder,
cause though I know entropy
will eventually consume everything
I like to think
I make my own purpose.

That I write meaning into
this universe I view
by the force of my creative will.

So, when the shadows come in
swallowing my well being
I have a foundation to fall back on.

Boy I was wrong,
the king of meaninglessness
the projector of  
poetry that says to everyone
that nothing really matters,
got a little silly
and caught up in
all those distractions
from reality.

Thankfully, all it takes
is a pandemic to shake
me from my stupor
and put me right back into the corner
remembering how much
I really don’t matter.