Sunday, January 25, 2015

A different kind

 Separate
 From the others
 the ones who
wear that smile
stare at a time clock
no bumps or bruises
hands are clean
while the others work
they watch
from a wicker throne
a perfect life
but they cry alone
Separate
The two kinds
both of skin
one pretends
the other
callused
from within
Separate

Copyright © 2015 Christopher Lynn Lane