Poem Fourteen (08/03/2025)

There’s something particularly sad about my existence in this Earth I can’t quite place

For all the things I’ve made, they’re really gone nowhere at all

I hide beneath a veneer of sophistication and aloofness to mask the truth of a mediocre man

For all the best efforts I’ve made to sell my own worth, it all shatters as I remember how very little I’ve influenced at all

Maybe I care too much about what one may perceive of me

Maybe this feeling too shall pass

Although I tell myself I am absent from this plague that modern society suffers from

In reality I am as much of a slave to it as any other