I run a dotted line around this block,
traces of me are everywhere though they
are hidden under the footsteps of 100 feet
stamping my poor identity in to the ground.

C'mon, You know me.
You've seen my face many a times
I'm the one with the earbuds in
smokin' the cigarette
strolling through the park,
And the one with the white collar
sittin' at the bus stop
waitin' to start another Tuesday.
I'm the one with the fist in the air
and a joint between my lips
at the rock show.
You know me.

Maybe you haven't seen me
because you just look right through me
every time you walk past me.
I am just another face in your daily grind,
Not even a familiar smile or a friendly display
Just eyes, a mouth and a nose
placed in contemporary fashion
to give enough background color
for your masterpiece painting.
How thoughtful,
You're really using just one piece of me.