Dear Elon,

You built a universe of electric dreams

a constellation of companies orbiting around you like the sun

like empty satellites

but here, feet stuck on the ground, it shakes

with empty stomachs

A pop star with bright green hair imitating aurora

sent out a post, aimlessly floating through the internets dark

imagining what your wealth could do

Ten billion to protect new lungs

Forty billion to feed neglected appetites

Fifty Three billion to aid the city in rubble

one little star asking the larger one for help

Elon.

Your response shot across the web like a shooting star that had lost its way

You could have orbited towards kindness

Could have let generosity fill your heart

but you deflected

As if kindness was too much to afford

The world WILL keep spinning

only, it will be hungry and helpless and heartless

people will wonder how a man that supposedly holds the universe

can feel so far from the people living on it

and as your future shines

everyone but the orange man

will wait to see

your prized companies finally fall

And when your rockets are finally grounded, and your cybertrucks no longer drive

You remember

You WILL remember

that maybe, the universe is too big for you after all