The Crumb

March 31, 2008
By Eliza Stout, Wayland, MA

A crumb.
Shining.
It falls first from black oblivion.
A speck.
Then more fall.
But still, the crumb occupies my mind.
It hides itself behind the black curtain.
It is small.
It is a crumb.

I am a giant.
I control the earth.
My feet rattle the ground.
My hands are destructive.
I have power.

But I am oblivious.
The crumb is growing.
It is brighter.
And I am smaller.
I am not a giant.
I do not have power.
I am now the crumb.
The crumb is now my master.


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