We see the janitor sweep up the floor
His moustache grey and wrinkles on his face
He turns the handle on the closet door
And then he walks into his own small place 

This is a man who everyone ignores
They barely even see him as a man
He sweeps the trash that they leave on the floors
His dreams, with dust, go in the dusting pan

But here’s a man with secrets on his walls
He has a story none have ever asked
To them his life is centered ‘round the halls
But what they see is hardened and is masked

He is a shadow on the locker doors                                               His life now meant to finish others’ chores