There is more to me
Than you can see.
Why won’t you smile my way?
Is it my wiry, wispy beard
That makes your eyes slit
Behind the shades?
Or can you not imagine my tar skin
Wrapped around your milky way?
Could you get past the gimpy limp,
My stammering lisp,
And the haggard hole
In my flannel shirt?
If you would just give me the day
I could manage without my
Duct-taped cane.
You could fit yourself
In the crook of my scarred arm,
And I could hold you up.
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