With neither a talent nor a special ability, world is gloomy place.
With a jig saw clip, life is just clipped.
But there is an escape...
The creature may be wanton,
But the creator cannot.
Just plumb,
Plumb to the depths of in self.
Existence is just a riddle,
...and it will be revealed to you.

Small makes the great,
Never the other way round,
Though trampled on the ground,
We ground on which they stand.
Just like the foundation,
Never painted,
Never donned,
Always firm
But never seen.
We are the legs of what you see.
Sleek models they drive around,
We buy,
We fuel.
When they pass overhead,
We pay their tickets.
Yet no one can prove our existence...
Because we are the mighty small.