While Jean Is Typing... Poem by RIC BASTASA

sometimes we want to talk to someone just to fill in the hours
but people want always to be taken special
and cannot appreciate this casual need
but no one is really special in this universe
it seems that each one is nothing but a speck
of dust
and this disappoints someone somewhere
who conceives the idea that
the universe needs him and that it would be
incomplete without him/her
we have wandered for a long time
we invent a universe
religion
we want to rationalized always our importance
i expect the truth
that after all these we are nothing
but a product only of
an evolution
without any significance at all