Poem Thirteen (06/13/2025)

Nowhere is the path I go
Nowhere is where I have always been and always will be
Nowhere as far as the eye could see

I write messages in bottles that washes away through the sands of time
I dance through the unfeeling, uncaring crowds that pass through me
I shout until my voice is hoarse to avoid being whisked away in the wind
I fight through the concrete wall to hold my body back from melding into its suffocating embrace
I send out cards of my name to every living soul imaginable
Yet I am still going nowhere

I swim through the currents of life to plant a seed
Desperate to make it grow faster
For it to bear fruit and feed many generations to come
Yet I am still going nowhere

Is it even worth the struggle?
Is it worth climbing up a mountain to plant a flag you’re not sure may be seen?
The possibility of finally drawing my last breath makes my hair stand on end
Not because of its finality nor of a sort of brutish afterlife waiting for me
Hell is not any more frightening than the possibility of being marked as John Doe

No, the real divine punishment is a life where you are gone
Yet no one will ever find the bottles you throw
No person will ever care to watch you dance
No being will ever differentiate your voice from the wind
Not one soul will ever notice you melding with the wall
No human, animal or creature had ever found it worthwhile to keep your name

I am still going nowhere and I will be forgotten all the same