My Sands

You might have thought me poor

Digging for hours in the dirt

Trying to find pieces of my childhood

Yeah…they might have thought me poor

Carrying pieces of sand, acting like there are jewels in my hands…

…See they used to be my own

Earth and dirt to which i belonged

I find me poor these days

With toys already made

Play-doh i did not create

A screen play I did not write

This…none of this… is my own

It’s their thoughts that i came to believe

You might see me looking for a diamond ring, for a white car, to cover up how poor I feel

about what we are