They tell me: you don't have a character
There should be a character in the story
They ask me
Why do you write about the stars
And cosmos.
You know nothing about it.
You are not Carl Sagan,
Or Hawking,
Or Feynman,
Or Michio Kaku or even
Neill DeGrass Tyson
(this moment I usually roll my eyes)
They say: you should go back to the ground
'Cause you'll never reach any star
And nobody will. Forget it.
Forget it.
The life is here
Here, they say
Here, on Earth which moves around the Sun
Oh no. They don't know.
it's falling.
It's falling!
Every moment it's falling.
And they don't know.

And what about the Sun?
It's also falling
It's falling to the center of the Galaxy
To the giant and greedy black hole
Which is hungry
Always hungry and after billions of billions years
It will explode
And create
Other stars,
Other nebulas,
Galaxies,
Humans.
Who will say to another me: you don't have a character. Only stars.
They can't be characters
Starts are not alive
And again
And again
Or not.

Who knows
How it goes
And what happens within these walls
In billions of billions years
Cracks in walls –
Scars on the skin of the Universe
And if you are there
If you are still there
Please, tell me
All this time
Wasn't my character
Here?