From noone to someone.
A someone a noone would not want to be.
For a noone is nothing and some things
are far worse than nothings.
For a nothing is simply a nothing.
But a something is only a nothing
With something atop it.
Most often a joy,
But more often than not,
On a nothing is cast a deplorable lot.
A something,
A vilething,
A deadthing.
So give me a nothing,
And not all these somethings.
Perhaps the nothing that only death brings.
But then everlasting I'd live in my nothings,
Without any hope of the wonderful somethings.
The life things,
The joythings.
A beautiful bird sings.
And now as this "some" stings,
I wait for the nothings
That sometimes must come
Before we can live
In the wonderful wings
of the beautiful somethings.