I Am Here

I am the blade of grass,

Cut down for the sake of aesthetic value

I am the pebble,

A sorry, insubstantial excuse for a boulder

I am the domesticated feline,

With an illusion of freedom and an unconscious dependency on my oppressors

I am the tall oak tree, towering over suburbia,

Receiving their attention only when they trim my branches for reaching too far toward the stars.

I am the wounded, wary warrior,

Fighting for an unknown cause. A cause not my own.

But I will not give up. I will pick up my sword and shield and fight to the finish.

       I am miraculous,

Begotten of a myriad of random, chaotic collision

       I am not the sum of my faults or imperfections,

I am not a waste of space.