Butterfly Effect
I’m a dime in a dozen in the bank of billions
Drowning in the weight of numbers
So much more significant than 5 fucking cents
I’m the blur at the end of your margin
The oxford comma in the book of your story
A nondescript face not found in your dictionary
I’m Person A B C in the script of life
Shrouded in the darkness hidden from the limelight
A tiny action in a freeze frame scene
When I breathe my last breath
All that will be left of me are ashes
Without a fancy, engraved slab of rock for you to read
But my love, hatred, fear are only mine
And even if you don't know my name,
And my wingspan is small,
I rage storms in my autobiography