On a planetMature

you think that you have a place
on a planet where you are nothing
you are not a person
you are not alive
but to breathe
and even though what air do you breathe
but the air everyone else exhales
you are not in eyesight
you are not in a room full of people
that all know what they're doing with their lives
you are not a leaf in the wind
at the end of october
you are not a red robin in january
you are simple and ordinary
you are a human being
that goes unnoticed just like everyone else
until something thinks that your potential
is more than enough for them to sap
more than enough for them to add pizazz to
and act like oh, yes,
you are theirs for the taking
until someone else comes along
and you are not so much a shining star
but a beacon
no longer something to catch
but something to capture and destroy
like that is all you are meant for
no longer a piece of potential,
just meaningless and broken
and used like a scratched vinyl
you repeat little things
until you can't even do that
with broken needles surrounding you
until there is no sound
and you think that you have a place
on a planet where you are nothing
when the reality is
you are oxygen
that someone else is breathing in

The End

8 comments about this poem Feed