poetry

the city doesn’t care

The city has a story to tell.

Rumour has it you do too,

But I’m afraid you won’t always

Be around to tell it.

Sure, you can feel tall and mighty

Watching beetles on the pavement,

But riddle me this:

I was once 11,

Now I’m 21;

Soon I’ll be 31,

Then 101…

 

Look up at the clouds and skyscrapers;

The city doesn’t care

About the people on the pavement.

It doesn’t even see the beetles.

This universe

Works the same way too;

In light years you might as well

Not exist…

Yet you still insist

That your writing isn’t good

And rejection hurts

???

Dead people would call you crazy.

The universe doesn’t care,

So listen to the ghosts,

And stop caring too.

 

Inspired by J. Truant’s book ‘The Universe Doesn’t Give a Flying F**k About You’ 

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