Poem Hunter
Poems
The Little People
(04 October 1943 / Germany)

The Little People

I had a dream today,
my afternoon siesta
had only just begun
and I had drifted off,
when noises from the alley,
where cats and vermin live,
commenced their daily
and disruptive celebration
of life-long dreams to reach
the summit of mediocrity.

A giant step, no doubt,
be born in squalour
and filth of rubbish,
dumped by those who have.

Not many do succeed
in this endeavour,
most cannot jump,
surmount their dull-gray shadows.

How sad, some say
that opportunities do not
exist in some form of equality,
condemning thus -no mercy-
the furry ones forever
to the fate of what is called
the lost world of
the little people.

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Comments (1)

what a wonderful truthful poem i couldn't have written in better myself a little person has been hanging around my rabbit hole all morning the amazing thing about this little person was he had produced no poetry himself which begs the question what is he doing on the site in the first place anyway i wrote a poem and put him in it then he went away Warm regards allan