We are nothing but a speck of dust in the universe

Poem about existentialism

Lace and cotton robe
Me and a pack of salted pistachio

My mind meandering
On the new year’s eve
Whether the upcoming will bring more excitement and adventures

Will it make me better, stronger, and wiser?
Or will it bring the same, reckless, foolish me?

Anticipation, anticipation
Anxiety, anxiety
I wonder if
I wonder if
I’m taking the right steps or I’m pushing myself to the cliff?