The Forlorn Poet

You won’t find me on magazine covers.

Or eating steak at fancy restaurants.

I don’t hang out on Wall street.

My house doesn’t have a five car garage.

But every day I go into work

Giving it all I got for people in suits I don’t even know.

People who were born luckier than I am.

I don’t crave the spotlight.

I don’t yearn for attention.

Most people don’t even about everything I do.

And never will.

But if I stopped doing it, they’d notice.

Look around you. Consider what you take for granted.

And ask yourself: “How many faceless people are working day and night

to provide me these things?”

Without them, there would be no guys in suits.

Because without them, the system wouldn’t work.

The people in the magazines might get all the attention.

But it’s the ones working in the shadows

that have really earned the praise.

Even if no one will ever give it to them.