I'm nothing,
no one,
just a speck on your floor.
When you do notice
that I'm there thriving,
surviving,
you don't realize me
as an entity;
you only deftly sweep me up
and try to get rid of me.
But I'll come back,
mark me, I will...
You cannot,
you will not,
conquer me forever.
I see you dancing around and
celebrating my death...
but heck, I'm dancing too
(and I even brought friends along) .
You'll keep sweeping me off
for as long as you can,
but each time you do,
you'll look down
and see more specks than ever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I particularly like the title of this one! Very cool! Hugs, Dee