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Soap Box Poets

I'm Weary
by Courtney Stone-Moore

I'm the waitress you stiffed
I'm the stranger you overlooked
I'm the homeless you scoffed
I'm the narrow, not the wide
I'm the unrelentless lies you trapped inside
I'm the hopes and dreams you press down
I'm the lonely cold morning
   with no coffee machine around
Tattered and torn, my life has holes
   like an evening storm when the sky clears

There's no sense I can make of life.

I'm the weary cab driver you coughed on
I'm the old person you let the door drop on
I'm the person next door you hated
My clothes are torn and tattered
My bulbs are shattered...hanging dangerous
I'm the vote that never gets counted.

There's no sense I can make of life.

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