Iam a victim in a time and space when blue collar white wash claims it is not spiritual to be so.
Like I had any choice in being berated and violated all those years. My muzzle fit tight around my pride at being so poised.
I am angry in a time and space when white collar bluebirds take us away in carnival rides and money bags dangled in the future to keep my pain quiet.
I am sad in a time and space when yellow jaundice and cancer ridden red knecks spite my privilege to be upset.
I am hurt in a time an space when purple pansies keep green pastures of hard work to set me straight.
I am crying in a time and space when blue jazz drowns brown bag lunches jealous to give me something to cry about.