the stars: a terrible attempt at poetry

I know I can’t compete with the stars.

What there is to see in the stars is endless. 

I see the constellations and am reminded of a structure I can’t maintain. 

The moon and it’s gravity reminds me of the responsibilities I’m not good enough to uphold.

Galaxies are adventures I never had, 

dying stars still shone bright to be remembered in a way that only the greatest of humans had achieved.


I am small. Insignificant. A passer by.


The constellations, how depending on the time of year, the month, 

it can be different. 

They’re always moving.


There’s so many people in the world doing so many things that will add up to nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

What we do yesterday, or today, or tomorrow, doesn’t have any affect on the world. 

 We’re all just going through the motions.

 High school, university, 

to what? 

Get a job, have a family, live in a house, die. 

That’s it. It’s all the same for everyone. 

So I don’t see the point.  

The world will still turn without me.

People will continue on their lives

And unlike the stars,

noticed and wished upon,

i will be forgotten.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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