When the universe makes you feel unheard, it’s like screaming into a void that never echoes back. Do you know what it’s like to exist—really exist—and yet never be seen or heard? To have dreams burning inside you, but feel powerless to finish them? To watch your passions slip through your fingers because the world, or maybe the universe itself, seems to have turned its back on you?
Low self-esteem creeps in, quiet but relentless. Where does it come from? Maybe it’s easy to blame others, but deep down, I know it’s my own battle. It’s no one’s fault but my own.
How do you go forward when your passion and desires have faded to nothing? When all the things you once loved feel distant, abandoned, thrown away, because that’s how the universe made you feel: disposable.
What is one to do? How can anyone be heard again when they feel lost in a universe that doesn’t seem to want them? I’m tired of trying to fit in where I don’t belong. Maybe it’s time to get ready to go home soon—wherever “home” is supposed to be.
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Author:
Friendship (
Offline) - Published: July 25th, 2025 09:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments6
Great write
Thank you, Tony36, for your kind words,
You're welcome
So hard to stand alone against the waves and try to hold back the tide. Harder still when hope and dreams like sand washed out from under ones feet leave one adrift. When caught in an undertow and taken far from shore to swim against the current and see the land of dreams can not be reached as strength fails. Yet never give up swim out of the current and one never knows when a boat may give a helping hand. A poem of despair and lost hope of loss and yet the darkest hour is just before the dawn they say. Courage is measured by the adversity it faces
Sorenbarret, thank you so much for your comment.
This is very close to the core for me, i understand everything written in this piece and I still struggle everyday to find the answers, nicely expressed and written, what a wonderful painting
Poetic Licence, Thank you for your kind words, and most of all for understanding. Not shaming me nor dissecting what I wrote means a lot to me, my friend. Thank you. I'm sorry you're going through the same thing. The pain is hard to explain, yet it's not for pity or anything else, but just trying to know our place in a world that we seem not to fit in.
I have been battling for years, there are ups and downs, you are right it is so very difficult to explain and actually understand why and what is happening, wishing you all the best, have a lovely weekend
I can feel the hurt in this, Friendship. The ache in these questions...unanswered, unresolved...reverberates loud and clear. You’ve given voice to a pain so many of us carry in silence. Truly, an excellent job, my dear friend. 🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Tristan Robert Lange, thanks for your understanding. A Voice had to be given. The pain hurts so much to be discounted.
Indeed. And you gave it voice. Grerat job! You are most welcome, my friend.
Hello Friendship,
The hollow loneliness of an outsider, a stranger in their own land and the pangs of trying to fit in where one is not wanted, abandoned without reason, expendable to the point of complete and utter despair. A distressing composition with just a glimmer of hope at the end - at least the word 'home' was mentioned, may your search for it be successful.
Wishing you all the very best,
Tony.
What I cherish about that line diminishing the speaker to the status of "disposable," is that one of my managers several years ago deliberately went to the trouble of informing me that, "you're disposable, you know--" like, duh. Ergo it's "funny" hearing the argument presented as if it's successfully damning. My own perspective is that of course there's not a person alive who's not disposable, despite loved ones and clients who may well feel they cannot bear to face the world without that individual's effects. Is it a generational malaise that we struggle with a sense of unattainable dreams and worthlessness? Else why do I hear this from you, when I mistakenly believed I alone suffered this? But enough of me.
Beautifully rendered and evocative with excellent imagery and a haunting poignancy. Thank you for sharing.
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