The only country
where the people do complain
more than it does rain.

like cracks in the sidewalk you lay down and remain.
friends and lovers move over you with their steel souls and boots.
weeds are spoken of, hiding in your crevices.
to be torn apart and rebuilt.
they see you as an obstacle.
i see you as a treasure.
no
i see you
as you do not want to be seen
i see you
as you