Today, was an open sewer
It retained endless rivers of filth
All the castaway grime of the world

But still I was content, in spite of my stumbling
In spite of peeled skin
And the sudden rush of blood

Savoring each breath, in a full thankful pause
I perceived and I dreamed
Through the cracked patch of sorrow

There was no need to scream
To curse or to thrash
To acknowledge
The low-looming clouds of wrath

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