Empire Race
Looking at the ground,
A horizon spreading into space,
As buildings grow higher and higher,
Humanities ego-driven race.
We speed to be the best,
Climbing always faster and higher,
One project to another,
Never pausing to just admire.
What is the point of it all?
To make a name? To be known?
All we see is inadequacy,
Never appreciating how much we've grown.
If we could just let go,
Of all of the doubt and hostility,
We would be able to let go of the fears,
And just be happy and truly free.
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.