The Poetry in the Dirt

The dirt is where I came 

Then the letter passed across it

The dirt was filthy 

But incomparible to the words

 

My infatuation was the reson

Not the words but the author

Who's hate reaches this boundries

That the dirt would be called home

 

I rescude the scrap 

Thinking i was the power

But the scrap changed me 

Now scraps our my loudest power

 

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