Day 11

[Today’s prompt is to write a poem about a very large thing. Interpret this how you will. Enjoy.]

i feel small

i feel like an ant, or how I believe one would, crawling along a sidewalk falling into cracks, using every ounce of strength to scale the heights back to the scorching concrete.

i feel like the bumble bee feeding at the seeds of a gigantic sunflower standing over 3 feet tall, but feels higher, like mount Everest.

i feel like a squirrel living among the branches of an oak tree fifty feet high above a freshly cut lawn, the top hardly visible from the earth.

i feel like a dot a small speck in the vast world of humanity, one of billions spread across thousands of miles separated by massive bodies of water, and acres of sparkling sand dumped in the middle of nowhere.

i feel like a bubble, a weightless ball of air floating among a sea of tiny molecules, feeling as though I’m not there, invisible to the naked eye.

i feel small like a speck of dirt clinging to the side of a cliff struggling to hold on, avoiding the erosion of time.

i feel small and insignificant, of no value to a world gone mad.

i feel lost, tired of the hustle of a society bent on its own destruction, of war, hate, ignorance, and bias.

i feel small within a circle of others too busy to look around, content to focus on what they want and how to get there.

i feel small like the atoms we are made of broken protons and messed up neurons cracked into millions of minute pieces scattered to the wind like dandelion seeds.

i feel small and broken unsure if I’ll ever pull together, become whole, normal, average in size, not large or small. To fit just right into the palm of my future, a destiny of a size in proportion to what I can handle.


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