This Great Big World of Ours


A ladybug on a peony goes

            Where it wants

In this great big world of ours.

Sure, it could be crushed by a human

Or, eaten by a crow

But maybe not,

That’s what it hopes for

In this great big world of ours.

And then a man bursts into my room and says everything I write

Is garbage for the masses

In this great big world of ours.

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