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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
We are all insects.

Submitted: August 17, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 17, 2014



In but a few short years,
Who shall agree with you that the stars told your future?
Who will care if you kissed a thousand sphincters?
Or stabbed a thousand backs?
Who will have listened to your best speeches?
Who were your acquaintances, and who were your leeches?
Who could possibly care you played a sport?
Who’ll reminisce about you and your sort?
Who will dismiss your claim of a perfect life?
Cut apart your memories with vitriolic strife?
Will any remember a word you uttered?
Precious “you” and the minutia you spluttered?!
No. The hive will prosper on,
With new stupidity and yours gone.

R Gallagher. 18-8-14

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