Expiration

I’m slow. Broken. Obsolete.

You don’t fix me. You buy something newer. Faster. Better.

I remember when I was the newest. The fastest. The best.

A fleeting moment too short to matter, in the vastness of time and space.

I have immense knowledge of history and politics, science and celebrities.

I know the infinity of space, stars, and the heavens of all religions.

Yet I am fleeting. Wanted for one instant in time, then lost to a landfill.

Important, then insignificant.

Desirable, then contemptible.

Coveted, then stepped on.

A reflection of the human race, and a symbol of its impermanence.

For humans expire, too. Just like an old computer.