Ode to Relevance

You lie on the floor

like a thousand broken

pieces of glass and china.

You reflect the light

looking just right,

but was it worth the war?

The dreams of so many

lead to so few

things that we were making.

These people, so many,

with their hearts, so heavy,

feel like they're breaking.

With the perpetual need for relevance -

I have to wonder,

what great blunder
Bought us to the edge of the fence?

There was no reason

or rhyme or season

why do people keep on keeping.

But when his shirt

fell onto the dirt

we learned that she'd just been teasing.

These people so many

their hearts just as heavy

are fighting to be relevant.

With the perpetual need for reverence.

One day you'll die,

four people will cry-

and that's if you're doing good.

He'll welcome you in,

he's known where you've been

a skeletal hand-

a whispering glance-

a dark, windswept face,

and a flash of romance:

and he'll ask you about your perpetual need for relevance.

You'll just stand their blinking,

suddenly: “what was I thinking?”

The bubbles in Styx keep on winking

he'll ask you what were you thinking?

And suddenly as you cross yourself over

the pieces will just seem to fit.

Life is nothing but meaning,

and you wasted it all on your dreaming.

Now you lie on the grass,

you fell on your a*s,

and there's nothing around you but flowers...

you could have sat here for hours.

More.