The World Says

 

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You are alone. No one will understand.

No one will ever know what you have done

Or ever read a word that you have written.

When you are gone, your work will be forgotten

And every sign that you have lived will fade.

 

I say: Hmmm. Let me think. Yep,

That sounds right. I expect nothing

Less than complete oblivion. In fact, I’m

Counting on it. My work is mine, not yours.

Ha ha. So there. The world pauses, thinking.

 

Then says.  Hmmm. Perhaps I was too hasty.

I say: Available through your local bookstore.

 

Comments 1

 
Rosy Cole on Saturday, 22 May 2021 14:39

We cast our bread upon the water...that is all. It returns to us in many days in translated form. The journey is everything.

We cast our bread upon the water...that is all. It returns to us in many days in translated form. The journey is [i]everything[/i].
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