Shouting in a room of people doing the same, wasted air
Maybe my thoughts are better left unsaid or spoken elsewhere, a place where yelling is unnecessary
How far have we come, are we going anywhere, I do not think so and speaking does not matter
We are winding down, absent are reasons to continue, my voice does not matter.
Illusion of being heard when I’m broadcasting to myself
Followers, likes and circles of content, glitter no longer catching eyes
I love to pretend there’s more but no its just a corner on a block, one of many
Used to think I’d be selected projected for projects, my silly self naive, foolish nonsense
At some point it is wise to walk away, perspectives and thinking in need of recalibration.
Speaking less and less cannot hurt and tweeting doesn’t thrill at all
Familiar with the street and a little tired of the walk
Social media elevated but then I feel it does not matter.