Black Cars

I ain’t nothin’

I’m scrap

I’m trash

My sign is nothing

My image is nothing

 

My style is stolen

My behavior is imitated

My look is manufactured

 

I ain’t nothin’

I’m low

I’m invisible

 

They don’t notice me

They don’t consider me

They don’t allow me

They don’t acknowledge me

They don’t follow me

They don’t fondle me

 

I ain’t nothin’

I’m a no body

I’m worthless

I’m a piece of dung

 

I’m not heard

I’m not sought

I’m not reported

I’m not stalked

I’m not felt

 

I ain’t nothin’

I don’t have a voice

I don’t have a friend

I don’t have a telephone

I don’t have a white glove

I don’t have a back door

 

I ain’t nothin’

Because I don’t travel in black cars

 

 

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.01.21.24:59:00@296NYC

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Love (Version #03)