deepundergroundpoetry.com
Signs
Is this my life?
Walking the halls a ghost
Walking the streets a phantom in the crowd
The ground beneath my tattered boots
The ache in my bones travels to my heart
Just as the sun rises, I am the moon
The happiness of others is reflected off of me
Just as the wind blows, I am the piece of trash that drifts down the street
You wouldn't pick me up, for fear of dirtying your hands
Each time you are full, I am empty
When you are nothing, everything's true beauty shines through
I see the stars, and am thankful I was able to sleep tonight
I see the butterfly, which puts a smile on my face
For I know nature has not forsaken me
Just because I'm not holding a sign
Doesn't mean there are none
Walking the halls a ghost
Walking the streets a phantom in the crowd
The ground beneath my tattered boots
The ache in my bones travels to my heart
Just as the sun rises, I am the moon
The happiness of others is reflected off of me
Just as the wind blows, I am the piece of trash that drifts down the street
You wouldn't pick me up, for fear of dirtying your hands
Each time you are full, I am empty
When you are nothing, everything's true beauty shines through
I see the stars, and am thankful I was able to sleep tonight
I see the butterfly, which puts a smile on my face
For I know nature has not forsaken me
Just because I'm not holding a sign
Doesn't mean there are none
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