To my loved ones, I'm a ghost: I haunt them, I am to be shunned. Heartless as ghosts are, I do not feel wrath-- I feel the emptiness.
What have I done to become this sort of monstrosity?
What must I do to come alive before them?-- What must I do--
to become real in their eyes?
To my loved ones, I am **** I am brown, filthy, avoided.
They seek to go back to the ******** of the owners
who love disowning them.
Why, my beloved owners, do you not see-- that I am your ****
There are many like me, but this **** is yours.
To my loved ones, I'm just phlegm. Sticky-- yuck!
But, the same substance used to protect them from viruses
Why do you look at me--
Your protector, with disdain?
Do you not see:
I may be all of these, but I am yours anyway.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
To my loved ones, I'm a ghost: I haunt them, I am to be shunned. Heartless as ghosts are, I do not feel wrath-- I feel the emptiness.
What have I done to become this sort of monstrosity?
What must I do to come alive before them?-- What must I do--
to become real in their eyes?
To my loved ones, I am **** I am brown, filthy, avoided.
They seek to go back to the ******** of the owners
who love disowning them.
Why, my beloved owners, do you not see-- that I am your ****
There are many like me, but this **** is yours.
To my loved ones, I'm just phlegm. Sticky-- yuck!
But, the same substance used to protect them from viruses
Why do you look at me--
Your protector, with disdain?
Do you not see:
I may be all of these, but I am yours anyway.
