Dereliction

I can see through the trappings set forth. They all come and go, as fleeting as the lives we hold to be important. These lives are, in all actuality, the most important. However, all at once they matter not.

To the universe I am an atom, one of trillions connected to the void.

To the world I am a speck, another one of these creatures, who tries to overcome the fact, that I am just another one of these creatures.

To this nation I am a number, a fraction of a decimal, plugged into an endless equation, if the outcome is undesirable, my number is redesignated to fit the system and quiet the remainder.

To this town I am a face, another name in a volume of names, waiting and hoping to be seen on the front page, before the obituaries.

To the one's I call my family, where blood has no meaning: I hope I am support, love, and an honest word when the truth is all but absent.

To myself I am a superstitious fool. To think one such as I could believe in the ideals we claim to imbue in the youth. For any and all matters deemed to be worthwhile, by myself and my kin, I pledge my fervorous compliance.

To myself I am a man, who believes in my God and my mind. I know what I believe is right. All the while, being bombarded with the fact that integrity is not fashionable; and that a promise, is nothing more than a future regret.