Little Things

Life’s littered with little things

Many of which have turned kings

Into miserable and wearisome subjects

Piling precious lives among earthly rejects

How one tiny comment perches

Invisibly and is warmed until it hatches

And a brood of ‘not enough’ is raised

Diligently until the heart is dumb when praised

A tiny patch or stain grieves to no end

It becomes so hard to even pretend

And discomfort is nurtured, manicured

Until nothing is achieved, only a soul troubled

How bodily imperfections are readily rectified

Even when some results leave others undignified,

Of not death, or even more uglier than before

Yet we are in the image of God, biblical evidence show

Life’s little things cripple thousands

For they are multiplied like the sands

One walks with evidence of its existence

Until one settles of unsavory six pence