how could i ever feel so grand,
so boisterous about my being
when the world is so big
and full of people, places, love,
and life i've yet to see?
i am nothing, i am not superior to anyone or anything,
yet i am a part of the machinery,
a piece of the grand scheme—
i am a rain drop among storms,
i am one leaf among many that fall in autumn,
i am a cloud floating by,
i am a an asterism among a greater constellation
i am an element of something greater than myself—
and yes, i am small, but i am important.
i still matter, and so do you.