Sunday, October 11, 2009

Insignificance by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

When I feel small, like a grain of sand, I am insignificant.
When I grow tired of my insignificance I imagine I am tall,
rising over mountains. I usually end up sinking into a vast
sea. Loaded up on medicine, I can barely keep my small
eyes open. I drown in a sea of sand.

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