A surname, I know not what,
A Christian name, I possess not,
Atoms of antimatter describe me,
A forgotten dream is my essence,
I lack any identity whatsoever.
To you, I am the emaciated orphan
Wandering the streets without shelter;
The abused dog whimpering in pain;
The fledgling fallen out of its nest,
Crying to its mother for help,
But with no response.
To you, I am your last bowel movement,
The dollar bill you gave away for coffee,
The worm you squished with your foot,
The spider you killed with a magazine,
The bacterium on the palm of your hand,
Exterminated with a single rinse.
Every day, you see, but never notice me;
You saunter, ignorant of my existence.
I am insignificant to you,
No more important than a proton
In the center of a hydrogen atom.
Although I called you ‘father, ’
You failed to call me ‘son, ’
Therefore, I am Nemo: forever nameless.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem