My Own Shirt

poetry-wednesdays7

I wear my own shirt
Layered within dirt and sweat
Clinging to cover

Underneath is bare
A broken and crippled debt
Hoping no one sees

Breaking from the norm
I can’t begin to regret
All the filth beneath

There’s a swing, a miss
Done with the end of the set
Till the next one comes

I wear my own shirt
Open as a fishing net
Letting water flow

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