bull
No one ever said that
Dirt besmirched beauty
That a pig rolling around in the mud
Could not be found attractive.
With you, its not the dirt
Caked under your nails
Or the speckles of dust
Marring your vain petals
That keeps you away from
Civilized living.
The smell, however, is atrocious.
You roll around in more than mud
Covering yourself with your own
Bullshit. Lies. Condemnations
While chalking it up to your
Hypersensitive mind.
I have to hand it to you, kid
You have an active imagination
But its being wasted on
Accusations with no cause.
Before venturing into the world of the living
And crawling out of the dung pile of your mind
Take a bath.
Wash that shit off.
Then, only maybe, will you be worth the effort to
Plaster on a fake smile
And offer civility but never friendship.