When I find my hands are dirty
Smeared with fear, remorse, regret
I put on gloves so I don't have to
Breath the stench that they give off

When I see my feet have saved
A little piece of what was sheltering
I pinch it out with just my fingers
And I save it in a jar

Cause where I've been makes me who I am
And how I look makes me who you think I am
How I smell makes you wonder if I care at all

When I see my blurred reflection
In the mirror I blow chunks on
Under spots and blobs of snot
I notice someone better suited for
A night sleeping under stars

Cause the air I breathe, full of ash and soot and danger
Makes me think the things I think
And say the things I say about
The way we live today

And off I wander towards the light

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sanctus's picture

good poem. Very engaging

good poem. Very engaging