The algae, the moss, and the mud.

While they could never understand the chemical reactions going on inside our heads,

They remain ever accepting of our presence.

Even as we lay waste to a small portion of these microbes in an attempt to observe,

They remain, and they maintain.

The ripples in the glass seperate into kaleidoscopic bliss until halted by our presence,

and yet,

We all remain in awe of their wonder, their silent, accepting way of life.

While everything I have ever known tells me that we are superior to them,

I want to be more like them.

To remain.

To maintain.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741