A certain truth

I could be one of those
tiny marks upon the page,
slight and insignificant,
softly wandering amongst
the faceless voids sketched out
in grey and black.
Waiting,
to worship the ground
upon which you tread gently.
Watching,
as you leave
no trace of bitterness.
And if the tear
should fall on your page
would you acknowledge
a lesser known truth;
in the anonymous crowd
I blended in
and a daily battle for survival
became beauty incarnate.