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Michael

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

1 poem·Since January 2014
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Nothing

January 28, 2014

What a tremendously frightening sight,

I try to contain my furious might,

As I look up to the stars in the night,

I realize that I am nothing.

 

I see water cascade down the rock with mold,

Crushing, destroying, eroding, very cold,

Yet beautiful and larger than life bold,

I realize that I am nothing.

 

I sit among a crowd of emptiness,

The curtains rise on what is pure greatness,

Applause rises as we notice nothing less,

I realize that I am nothing.

 

Suddenly I awake from that nightmare,

I am comfortable in my bed lair,

I fall back asleep, a smile I do dare,

Nothing is nothing.

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