You gotta be extra careful for each line you make 'cause there's no setbacks.

When proofreading
the print upon the
milky white pages
of my story,
you appear often,
circled in red

We are the poor.
We have no wealth.
Don't ask about our mental health
In fact walk past us.
Don't ask why
Just do not look us in the eye
Especially if you knew us before
When we wore socks and brushed our teeth
And hadn't given up and sank beneath
The awful maelstrom in our brain
Of fear, pain and damning shame.

We are the shadow people
But I see you,
And I know that you have shadows too.