No more than just, that thirty seconds of fame, is what we are all, allotted, no more, but, maybe, less for some, and that, is how the world, goes! Translated…
The windowsill started chatting up the with the wind on the flowers, it’d sounded like the whispers of secrets, freshly baked, and right out of the oven. The flowers cared a whole lot about being gossiped over, and they’d cared even more when they’re not talked about; the flowers invited one another to show off in full-bloom, while, the withering, the flowers were left to dealt with, alone, on their own, separately.
This showed, how when you’re happy the world is happy WITH you, but when you’re upset, I’m sorry, you’re, ON your O-W-N there, because that, is how cruel and cold the god damn world is, it only cared about the flash and the thrills, and all that light, but when everything’s gone, you’re, all alone, and NOBODY will remember, who that guy or gal was, but, s/he does, seem, familiar, we just, can’t recall you, and that, is the short split-second attention span that the world has here!
Mirroring the World 