The Dot

When he was a little dot,

He really didn’t know a lot

And when he grew into a spot

What he knew he had forgot;

Then the spot grew into tot,

Laid alone in safety cot,

Learning exactly what

He should know but still did not;

That tot grew into big shot,

Admiring his large gold pot,

Asking what he now had got,

But still he had not a jot

And now that dot that grew to spot,

Then to tot and then big shot,

Lies alone in a small plot,

The one that even time forgot.