Self Reflection

I am not the protagonist of any story.

The obstacle,

The helping hand.

The friend,

The foe.

Their salvation,

Their damnation.

None of these define my role.

What I am is a passing image.

A spec of dirt,

never a stain.

A dream not fallen back too,

Nor a thought that ever stayed.

Is it that I have nothing to give?

or they have nothing to gain?