I feel the turning once again of this world on which I stand.
I feel the steady cosmic motions and ponder if it is planned.

Do you stop to think, as I am on occasion inclined to do.
To speculate if plans and turning are meant for me and you?

So short the time we witness the revolving of the world.
Seemingly too short a time to see purpose in any plans unfurled.

Do you know a faith that assures you of what tomorrow brings?
Or have you come to question any meaning in religious things?

No one has ever truly known if it was made to turn for me or you.
I know the world keeps turning endlessly no matter what I do.

The flow of time and its expanse argue against a mortal plan.
At least in terms of one centred upon the species we know as man.

Why so big and why so long and why be here at all?
Why believe ourselves important when we so obviously are small?

So short the time we play our piece in what a plan might be.
And so far the plans horizons... too far for our small minds to see.

And yet my mind is caught in the fact that we are small...
Why something seemingly insignificant witnesses or thinks at all?

All I know about love is the pain
All I know about the blue sky is that sometimes clouds gather and it rains
I'd hoped that you'd cover me from the rain like an umbrella
The grief blows like a strong wind and am just an umbrella
In loneliness, I drink much wine and think of how it's made from grapes off the vine
Same slow song on repeat, music is beautiful and I think of how it's surely proof of the divine
I was only artificial, a porchlight compared to the sun
If forgetting is a line , can i go before my turn

When I feel
too small and unimportant
to be worth other’s consideration,
I remind myself
it is my responsibility
to strive to achieve
my joy and happiness
and others’ joy and happiness,
and by taking on this challenge
I make myself significant
to my joy and happiness
and others’ joy and happiness.

She cared more about annoying you than hurting me

maybe we're the lucky ones
who were exactly right for life
maybe we're the special ones
with our sight not seeing strife.

maybe we're the insignificant ones
with hopeless wonders in our eyes
maybe we're the lonely ones
with the light slowly passing by.

ever so rare and ever so golden
ever so evil and ever so corrupt
every day, humanity will stay
and responsibly, we shall pay.

Sometimes you wonder if you're significant
After all there is 7 billion of us, how am I any different?
Maybe there is someone out there that is just like me
Talks like me, walks like me, thinks like me, but isn't me.
The ego we have to think we are special
A speck of dust made of star stuff on aboard a giant vessel
Hurdling through space at magnificent speeds
Yet going no where, just staying still it seems
The moonlight seems real, the sunlight warm
But does it matter? It doesn't mean much after all
You start dying the moment you were born
Start your journey as a rose just to be a thorn.
In a thousand years we'll be long gone
maybe what we write here would live on.
Ten minutes after this is written, ten days a year or a hundred
Would you have been the last person to have read this I wondered.
Seems insignificant doesn't it, quite demeaning
So enjoy the little things in life, maybe that's what gives us meaning.
A nice cup of tea or a good book to read
Telling a loved one how much you love them, for that moment would seem insignificant, but to them it would mean everything.
©trevordemello

My name is insignificant
I sit on your bus
Not too far forward
Not too far back
I am awash in the middle
Every day you pass me by
But am I really anything to you
If I were gone, would you
Care?

My name is gray
I am the least of the colors
In the background
You take a picture
Was I there?
Do you even care?

My name is abscence
I creep around the holes of those lost
Maybe they’ll come back tomorrow
Maybe never
Maybe they’re the ones you hope will come back
Maybe theyre the ones you hope never will
I am unwelcome, nonetheless

My name is transparent
Every time someone looks at me
I smile, thinking they’re looking at me
When they actually mean it for the person behind me
I do this every time someone looks
Never realizing no one ever notices me

My name is invisible
Am I here?
You don’t know
Could you see me, if I was?
You think not
No matter where I am
No matter where I go
I am always
Invisible

My name is nothing
I am not here
I am not there
I cannot be anywhere
Yet I am everywhere
I fill the crevice of your heart
I creep around dark corners
I dodge behind trees
Not like you’d notice me
I am nothing, after all

My name is let down
And you don’t want me around
I want to be with you
Don’t you see
But you won’t ever let me be there
I want to ask
“Who can I be?
Who can I be
So you will love me?”
But you can’t answer that
Until I answer for myself

“Who am I?”

it starts with a whisper
quiet as the wind through your hair as you trek towards the water’s edge
feet sinking into the sand below

then it grows
filling your mind’s eye as the sight stretches before you, water crashing and frothing, stealing golden rays from the sunset above

the water tugs at your feet
the ocean, either through kindness or indifference, decides not to take you now
she just lets you watch
silently pouring all your emotions into the roar that surrounds you, into the endless amount of water at your feet and in front of you
and she listens
you are so small,
your problems and emotions are even smaller
she whispers to you, through the roar of her waves, the wind through your hair, the water stretching endlessly into the horizon

you are so small
and that is okay