I carry my baggage with me
Like a sack of ashes.
I have been burned and charred
By various sources
They are all that remain.
And yet you complain
That they don't smell good
And that they obstruct your view
I'm sorry I ruin your idealistic scenery
Considering your eyes are closed to a ******* up world
And you make your focus
The residue it left behind?
I hate to break it to you
But ashes are the result
Of a terrible fire that continues to incinerate
Our flesh and bones collectively.
The human race will eventually burn to a crisp
And you're worried about the remains
That I use to heed warning to others.