I am a paltry human,
invisible to the viewer, my existence not even guaranteed.
I am a window in a building,
black glass with white splotches on the seal.
I am a tiny structure,
my roof barely peaking high enough to be seen.
I am a block in a neighbourhood,
where homely warmth is only pretend.
I am a small city,
locked away inside a semi-circle.
I am a snow-globe,
and nothing inside me is really of any concern.