Coming to Terms

I am slowly coming to terms.
Slowly coming to terms with my life
How meaningless it is.
Slowly coming to terms with my work
I've really done nothing yet.
Slowly coming to terms with my existence
I do not belong here.

Slowly, I am coming to terms
with the world
with people
with
everything.
and yet nothing.

Slowly, as I am coming to terms
I find myself
fading
into the background,
the scenery,
the backdrop of life.

I see myself
accomplished in my age
But where does it lead me?
I shall fade with time.
No, I won't be Bill Gates
or the inventor of a telephone.

Send me back to Einstein's age
and I will be as much help to him
as I am to a dead man.
Edison wouldn't benefit
from knowledge that I have.
And I surely cannot write
better than Hemingway or Poe

No, my name
will not go down
in the history books.
My impact on the world
will be limited:
personal relations at best.

So,
I am coming to terms.