But a passing picosecond in the clock of time flowing.
But a miniscule spot in the infinite space all around.
But a drop of water in ocean of life not so glowing.
But a toy in a maze and moving round and round.
Like a failed attempt on Edison’s path to discoveries.
Like a tiny dry twig in a rain forest abandoned.
Like a forgotten event from millions of memories.
Like a threadlike gene in a bacterium stranded.
But a quark in the conspiracies of universe matter.
Like a e of euphoria and k of knowledge.
But a quarter of bland bread on a full man’s platter.
Like a leaf in autumn’s discarded foliage.
I am but a drop of tears that have been shed;
like one of those words that an author has never said