Worn jeans don’t equal anything
Still swinging mental fists in Winter
Bring me closer to appreciating bad days
Remove complaining or being jealous at the world
Temporary thrills soon to be lost pearls
Gold paper shredded in an emergency we’ll forget it
Drinking from cups designed for men without luck
Seemingly abandoned to bitter winds virtually stuck
Typing with worn gloves nicknamed Swiss cheese
Clean but they say poverty is a spreadable disease
Avoid the kid he isn’t dressed properly as if a man is outside
They’ll be deceived by Satan wearing fine suits latest ties
Behold the gutter brings forth kings and fine warriors
Pretty raiment today used as rags covering the bottom of damaged bags
Dirty cups inside but to the onlookers a better choice
Ignoring spoiled fruit eating it anyway unaware of whispers mixed therein
Worn pants prophets slapped and scorned
Until the sky is ripped open clouds torn with Holy trumpets blessed horns.
