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