September 14, 2010
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A monster stares at me
Cursing the bars and the sun
I’m afraid to meet his eyes
But doesn’t the fear make it fun?
He spits and calls me ugly
I say nothing because I don’t understand
Of course, obviously, he’s a monster now
But once he was a man
I ask him how he is
(It’s all I can think to say)
He says he bored (which means lonely)
Never does he look away
He asks me what the weathers like
Through ground-up yellow teeth
I tell him, awful, gallons of rain
Lie without missing a beat
He sighs, staring darker now
He calls me liar (then spits again)
To understand you had to see
You see, he is a liar too
He hates me because I am himself
Yet I am outside the bars, he not
Two criminals, two hells
Do you hate the bars
or do you hate the sun?
Do you avoid those not monsters
Turning your fear into fun?

We’re all monsters some

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