A charred piece of bread doesn't care
if it is given the name of “toast.”
Neither does a bird pause its song
to see itself properly identified
in little Darwinian field books. A flower
will open to the sun, unseen by human eyes.
A man, however, whose particular scent
and soul are not memorable, wilts,
decomposing cell by cell, the
divine fire smothered out.

Cheryl Lynn Moyer Peele

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/any-other-name/