I'm a cloud of useless waste of particles.
I float freely, I fall slowly.
I'm a useless dust of chalk. Wasted.
What is my purpose?
After my knowledge?
After I have made my marks on the board?
What am I bound to do?
After I sit steady in the cold, dark place that I stain? That I ruin?
I'm a useless powdered material.
I stay stationary, I move slightly.
I'm a useless left over matter of chalk. Unimportant.
No appreciation for my knowledge.
No notice for my wisdom.
Is my purpose to be unseen?
Is my purpose to irritate eyes and wreck souls?
I'm a chalk dust in a dark, cold corner...
Soliloquy is my game.
What I play. every time. everyday
Intentionally left behind,
By my knowledge, my wisdom, my faith, my truth.
I vanish, and I flourish and I fly.
I'm a chalk dust with no purpose.
And so, the soul had fled the existing body.
And in the end, I see...
My useless soul, my life...
first timer. pardon the emotional poem. this was actually for my lit. class and my lit. teacher told me to hang here and post some of ze works. hahaha... lol bye. nvr mnd this note. it's so useless lol. -jnldm