You'd forgotten
I was down here, out of the way,
Until you stubbed your toe
On my thick, thick, hard trunk
And then flashed a light on me.
You gasped.
Your expression seemed to ask,
How did you grow?
How did you thrive
In this darkness and in this mess
With only bitterness and tears to ingest.
I'm here nevertheless.
Staring up at you
Like a mushroom.
Colorless, bland, poisonous and mute.
My swollen, pockmarked face as wide as the moon.
I grow even as you gape.
Here to stay.
Much too sturdy now to be kicked
Out of the way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hmm... a dark side to this. Like it! -chuck