Blue jeans soft and torn
Comforting as childhood dreams
Worn close to the skin

you said I wasn' good enough for this world
so I put my life in my backpack
dusty, unheard of towns

my colors are exposed
for everyone to see
under the smokey sky

palms touch without a sound
the silver bell ring's at night
I don't like being alone at night

The onion wets
My delicate eye. I sit,
I dine without you.

Bioling summer heat
sticky sweaty people crowd
hot Chicago streets