My worthlessness

I don’t care about my status and position,

my identity or anything about my person,

but my right of honesty to follow my own path

and use my rightful boundless access of communication

for the furthering of life and others,

notably my friends and notably by education.

I don’t even care about my name, a common easy one,

there are a number of that name in Scandinavia,

signifying nothing, Roth not necessarily implying jewish origin,

and actually revealing nothing more than something of a girl.

I write my poems to express myself,

communicate my thoughts, committing my ideas to paper

for their conservation, if by chance they could serve others;

and if that would be the case, then am I happy

and content, for then my life was not completely wasted,

and I might have managed to produce, at best,

some dreams of lasting value that do not necessitate

their loss or any obligation to wake up from them.