Little Things So sensitive to a little thing A look, a silence, or no reply Such pain the insignificant bring and you heave a tearful sigh Always makes you turn upon yourself your fault, such a bother, a pain shove them away quickly, upon a shelf they build up, and weigh down, again such things always attack together make you question again your self worth leave you pondering the question whether a strain on others was your birth all you seek is a little recognition a sympathetic ear, a smile, a frown you desperately seek such a person but until then you continue falling down (c)2001 by Robert H. Harrison