by Nick Gisburne
You’re worthless, insignificantly weak,
The smallest smudge of shit beneath a shoe.
A nauseating stain, you reached your peak
When nobody, not one, remembered you.
We try, again, to picture you, your face,
But always we are blinded by the blur.
The lowest of the low, the human race
Has buried what you are, and what you were.
When every record, everywhere, forgets,
We wonder, were you ever here at all?
Perhaps the gods themselves are taking bets
That nothing could be so obscure, so small.
No coin could put a figure on your worth,
The least important prick on planet Earth.
