Followers

 

No one missed me when I was gone
Not one of them asked me to stay
None of them cared if ever came back
They all forgot about me and went their way
The same ones who said, We love your poems
The same ones who claimed to have favorite ones
Telling me to ignore whatever he or she said
Promising me my work was still appreciated and read
Pushing me to make a name for myself
Even if he or she said I probably wouldn’t succeed
Since today’s society has no market or need
For the dying art people hate to read

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6 thoughts on “Followers

  1. Reminds me of death in general. You feel such great loss, but the world keeps going, seemingly the same, without that person in it.

    No one said writing was easy. That’s why, I think, it’s important firstly to do it for yourself.

    • I take great pride in my gift of poetry however I’m aware that gifts such as talents are meant to be given back; shared with the world. That’s why I write; not only for myself but for others as well. Therefore being overlooked tends to bother me.

      • That makes sense. Certainly it brings me a lot of joy when people read/like/comment on things. I hope I’m reaching someone out there. But I try not to get too bummed if my blog or writing isn’t super popular. I take every view as a victory. At one time the only person who read my writing was me, maybe one other person. It takes time, I guess; the Internet is a busy place with a lot of distractions.

      • I understand. I suppose I just have a drive to be a great poet one day.

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