Photo by Matteo Modica on Unsplash
Flashing lights through the city that never sleeps
No hand in my own, yet he still charges forward
No mind of where I am, no guard to keep
Is it trust, or is it indifference
That drives him to look straight ahead?
The crowds bustle and threaten to swallow me whole
I push past and quicken my pace
I stumble, and still he doesn’t look, too focused on the goal.
All this to prove a point to a myth. To prove it isn’t that hard.
How could Orpheus have looked back?
I find myself slow to a stopping point, until I’m standing still
He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t notice me.
And I know he never will.