Poems and Poetry

Man of the Suburbs | A Poem by Ian Fletcher

For better or for worse
like most of us I suppose
he considers himself to be
the center of the universe.
Yes, with his wife and kids
steady job, detached house
and paid-up pension scheme,
everything’s absolutely fine
in his trivial suburban life
all going to plan we can see
from what he posts online.
He worships no deity
fears no kingdom come
and seems quite serene
when all is said and done
living in the here and now
his comfortable existence
sufficing for immortality.
Yet, one day this smug man
too will succumb to time
and though a few might weep
perfunctory tears for a while
at the well-attended funeral
in a generation not a soul
will remember he has gone.
Then, his only trace may be
the frozen Facebook page
on some forgotten database
where his final profile pic
will grin inanely on and on.

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