A Questionable Appearance
What is it about fame
the never ending need to be heard
or seen
to be examined under a thick lens
I envy the humble
for they make little sound
they have no requisite for a salute
or even a slight compliment
as for myself
I feel as though my life is being reported
the angels in Heaven are taking heed to my every breath
they direct my tale of woe to the Creator
my deceased ancestors are gazing down at me
my life is a fascinating performance in their eyes
they converse with the celestial beings regarding my destiny
they stare in excitement and anticipation of my upcoming decisions
as to the strangers who walk beside me everyday
i am simply a brush of the shoulder
an equal
unfamiliar flesh and blood
I have the best of both worlds
in the literal sense
for on Earth I can be inconspicuous
while somewhere in His kingdom
I am in fact famous
