ghetto

i’m day drinking with a
young orphan of an old war
who has beautiful shoulders
and is missing his canine teeth
while i stare at a bruise
on my knee
that seems like it has been
there for years
you are far away, running
so i find myself in the company
of blood splattered boys
with no hope and nowhere to go
i’ve delved into the dark side
of the street
now i need to change my style
this rhythm is repetitive
walking around in these shoes
that he wore
i pace to the mirror and back
searching for signs
of a scar

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