A human being.
So many needs, so many desires
The wish for happiness, for acceptance, for love, for success
The yearning to prove oneself, to earn your place
To show the world that you matter.
And when you are gone, buried in the cold earth,
Who will miss you?
Who will mourn you? Who will have their every moment
Marked by your absence, the dark bird towering over their shoulder?
Who will care?
Because you may be gone, and you may be missed
By some – by the little circle you called your own;
But to the world, we are just a statistics.
In the end, what are we
But one number surrounded by billions more
Each with their little dreams and needs and loves
Until they, too, are gone.