Drifting
I drift from this life to the next
Floating from one wave to the next
No drive
No expectations
No real modivation
Just flouting
Bobing
Waiting
Drifting
I am a bottle
I have no special message
I have no special purpose
Drifting in the current without meaning
Someday I may wash up on shore
Maybe I could be recycled
Turning into something beautiful
Or maybe I'll be thrown away with the other trash
But until then I will drift
With the simple acheivment of existing
This poem is about:
Me
Our world