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

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