We are bugs under his shoes.
Not a loved child, in terrible two’s.
Disobedient children couldn’t be so far.
We are grains of sand, and he is a star.
Trample our cities under his feet.
We believe he loves us, an epic conceit.
So full of ourselves, we hope he will serve us.
We pray for glory, success, and surplus.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 7:56 PM UTC
We are bugs under his shoes.
Not a loved child, in terrible two’s.
Disobedient children couldn’t be so far.
We are grains of sand, and he is a star.
Trample our cities under his feet.
We believe he loves us, an epic conceit.
So full of ourselves, we hope he will serve us.
We pray for glory, success, and surplus.
Request permission to use this poem