I am the dust behind the couch,
forgotten and dirty.
The chopped liver in the fridge,
the thing everyone avoids.
The ashes in the fireplace,
remains of something long since dead.
The gum on your shoe,
Which you stepped on unnoticed.
The forgotten birthday card,
for which they never remembered.
The discarded penny,
so shiny and new.
The shadows of this life,
unseen in the light.
All these things,
they are what I am.
I am no one.

::March 4, 2003 03:35 PM

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