There's no story here.

There's no story here. No scandal. No conspiracy.  No victories or accolades. Just a life outside what matters No progress or growth It's just the same each year each and every year It's just the same And yet for some reason That I don't understand I am loved. Why do they care? I'm not important I never will be. Why do they reach out  and listen? I have nothing profound to say. Tiny words  on a tiny screen. Swiped left and deleted.