under a rock.
my dad would say,
I was found under a rock.
worse things have happened.
there's life down there
we forget to see,
important work
to us all.
so maybe I count all the more
because of my
dirty
creepy
crawly
grunge-eating
tiny
wet
ugly
crowded
fight-for-survival
origin.
I'd say
I came to life
prepared.
👁 1💬 1
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (1)
Log in to leave a comment.