I have the world in the palm of my hands.
It could seep through my fingers
Or stay in my palms.
If I let go, will it be alright?
Will it just fall to the ground?
If I drop it, will I be forgotten?
Of course I shall;
It’s just a handful of sand and ants.
Who said it was our world?

I know this seems a bit ridiculous, but I felt I simply had to write it. If you think about it, it has another meaning. It could help you put things into perspective, or you could just think I’m a total idiot. Either way, whatever. This is like my sixth poem, and I don’t think any of them have really made me evolve as a writer. It might as well have been my first one. Based on a photo. Please be kind.