The Unknown Citizen – W. H. Auden

He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a
  saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn’t a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Instalment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content 
That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace: when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his
  generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their
  education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.

I had to study this poem for an exam, and only then did I realize its beauty. I read through once, and it just struck me unlike anything else I’ve read recently.

It’s the life of an unknown citizen. 

It’s the life a person not unlike you and I.

It’s my life.

And then it hit me. I could live a simple life, an unknown, insignificant life and die the same way.

It’s the nature of life. There’s not much I can do about it.

Not everyone becomes recognized. Not everyone’s good under the limelight. Most of us end up as unknown citizens. 

It’s a little sad when you think of it that way.

Nevertheless, Abraham Lincoln offers some solace,

“God must love the common man. He made so many of them.”

Well, whether we end up unknown or super-famous, it never hurt to try.