Song of a Spectator


The song of a spectator

I have seen men rising from ashes to greatness
I have also seen men fall from great heights of life to the valleys
I have watched men give up on their hopes and aspirations
I have watched friends labour to survive and forge their place in life
I have partaken in the family toil

I am left to wonder about myself,
What will be said of me?
That I chose not to fight?
That I have not chosen my battles wisely?
That I am a spectator in the battles of life?
That I am like a hardboiled egg, impervious to the happenings around me?
That I sought for solace in effervescent liquid?

It never really mattered what will be said of me
Or what would be written as my epoch
All that seems to make sense is to drift through life
Living, surviving or existing? It doesn’t count anymore.

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