Little Things

I hate all these little things
That stick out their pesky faces
Capable of huge potential harm
Even if its someone’s untied laces

Little things and I
Don’t really get along
They don’t deserve a poem
But I cannot not sing a song

You know the way they stick
Right in the middle of fond memories
Exactly like a muddied pothole
On an snowy virgin territory

Little things can change quick
Turning my life by an eternity
An incorrect spelling or even a typo
Calls out exclamations on other’s brevity

Bigger things make my life
Judge me and my true potential
They make me think, instigate me even
They make people small or influential

Little things are of no good use
They are just meant to be
My fretting and fuming doesn’t change a thing
They continue to laugh with all their glee