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Dirt MAG
I am and always was a piece of crap,
You look too hard at it, I am just that.
Dirt like you, dirt like gran, we are all dirt.
Tight shirts might hurt, just loosen up. Not light,
My face rises like the sun sets. Fall fast,
Dead leaves and dungarees, quick, burrow deep.
Hush your words you piece of dirt, ignorance.
Bliss shower me, fill me full, water nulls.
We grow to green, seldom when it's still sweet,
Fertile with germs, potential to be great.
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