RED BALLOON

If you can hear
Above the chatter,
Place your ear near,
Does one life matter?

So many live and die,
Too many to ever count.
No one can specify
As to the precise amount.

Generations come and go.
Beings abound far and near.
And we may never know,
The reason we are here.

A frog croaks at night.
His universe is the pond.
Can a life so finite
Have any meaning beyond?

Does every grain of sand
Even matter to the stars?
Does what we understand
Concern the ants on Mars?

Do the fish in the sea,
Or the birds in the sky,
Know about you and me,
Or care if we live or die?

For every red balloon,
There are infinitely more.
We may know the tune,
We do not know the score.