The world at large neither knows
nor cares how you feel
Yet, for reasons unknown,
it stands silently and indifferently,
Watching the spectacle
of your wanting to exist.
Were you but a lump of modeling clay
Would you have cared for your formlessness?
Or, if you were just a molecule,
Would it have made sense
if you complained
Why you were a component molecule of water?
Or, maybe a molecule in some underground mineral alloy?
Probably not.
Yet, being human, you have grown used
To the will of being You.
And unrepentant,
you keep asserting your will to be You.
Your you-ness has cost you worldly affiliation
No doubts about that
However, does it give you great joy
to be You?
Tenderness cries within these words and yet, the words describe and define the truth of the finding within you. You touch this poem with elegance and beauty. Utterly beautiful!
Thanks PassionWhite, I wrote this one in a fit of free-association, and after writing the whole thing I changed the personal pronouns to second person: the Me’s and Mine’s to You’s and Your’s. Which explains the existential undertones. Great to know you liked it!