Garbage
Flannel shirts, sweaters, well kept.
those are the words people used to describe me today
I'm not always so elequent
A messy bun and a haze of cigarette smoke are my ideal state
skinny jeans and scuffed boots are my uniform
Words slur with a slight inflection of spanish heritage
Dark brown eyes hide behind thick rimmed glasses.
The world sees me so differently than I really am
They don't need to know who I am
I'm happy with that
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.