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A Bird’s-Eye View
My perspective from atop the world,
My front row seat into everyone's lives.
They perform their theatre shows
Whilst I, the audience, watch from the rows.
I see myself in some of them,
We face the same plights, me and Macbeth.
Both searching for ways to spend our time.
When I access the holy repertoire that I possess,
I use to get a taste of what a mortal life must be like.
Like an astronomer looking through a telescope,
Or a photographer using his lens.
I look into my sandbox of unknowing subjects,
My little storage where I keep “the men.”
I stare into my toy box
searching for means of entertainment.
I watch my children with a child-like gaze
amazed by every engagement.
I see them running around in their tiny towns,
the little-big areas that they have created.
They’ve sectioned off my beloved project
into a multitude of different places.
They’ve made cities, They’ve made states,
They’ve made war, They’ve made nations.
They’ve made murderers, They’ve made heroes,
They’ve made beauty, They’ve made relations.
And yet,
They struggle to find the purpose and meaning
Behind their race’s continuance.
They stare longingly into the night’s sky
Yearning for me to give them some assistance.
“What is the meaning of life?”,
The question that plagues their minds the most.
A simple request, that I once had, but was able to answer long ago.
The meaning of life is to keep asking questions, and
To leave no stone unturned.
I asked all of the right questions,
So now it’s my job to sit back and observe.
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It's a persona poem.