Greatness

I'm the kind of man who's only seen
In blown-up photographs, a nameless
Token of his time, incapable of mighty
Feats, of stirring speech, or even petty
Claims to notoriety. Known not far
And wide, but near and narrow,
I can see that I won't be a part
Of any “great man” history. At best,
I'll be a digit in the survey data
Some poor PhD assembles to explain
The glacial pace of social change,
And, honestly, that's fine with me.
Great men at their greatest last
No longer than humanity, and
Human beings come and go.
The planets and the stars which
Lead to their development decay,
And all is lost. All has been lost
Too many times to count as time
Itself is an infinity. I'm here. No one
Has noticed. Likewise, there will
Come a time when no one knows
That there once was a world,
Like theirs, which nurtured me.
Each of these successor beings
Will, instead, be hoping to be
Centered in the photographs,
And great, the sort of person
Who'll be known for all of time.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 96 times
Written on 2017-06-26 at 16:30

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