Claps for those in the expensive fabrics,
bins for those with the holes in their shoes.
Sun on my face but it’s still so dark.
Small things bring me small smile.
No existence brings me pain.
Hands they have in hands for many
Mine can hold just one then they get heavy.
steps on the green grass for good eyes,
green becomes red and then painfully cries.
I see myself in the mirror and I’m blind,
paper and the plastic haven’t been too kind.
I’m happy with the one I love,
walking and holding hands but with the gloves.
Sun on my face again, this time even brighter,
color of my eyes turns red and grass becomes even lighter.