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Well, I’m broken in. What did the breaking
make me? What did the scavenger
bring me in his beak, tissue of sores in shreds
along the hot sidewalk?
What good did crying do me… …til I was dirt
and pastel rings around a puddle?
There is no silver lining. There is no well.
It seemed all eyes were on me,
these veins of infection; It seemed everyone
was talking all at once. And it seemed
they were always walking away;
colliding, backing off, coming at me
and walking away.
It seems I dreamed in a grey block cube.
And what did I get? I stayed alive.
And what did I get? I survived a holocaust
and all I got was this lousy T-Shirt…
I got my life back, and it has been
the most exquisitely interesting life.