Today, say hello
to the waking of the Sun,
salute beginnings.

A bug,
an ant,
carries weight
for his hill and mother.
They say he
has too many legs.
"But, what do you mean?"
They say his
color isn't right.
"But, I like my color."
They say he's
too small to be tolerated.
"But-"
They squash him.

I think and
I imagine and
I pick apart and
I wonder.

I speak and
I stop.
I say
never mind,
I don't know.