With The Spiders And The Mud Poem by April DOWN

As I hide with the cobwebs
The spiders aimlessly clambering
I watch the smoke coil from my cigarette
My lungs full and the ash falls
There are holes where the butt burns
As I drop segments on my clothing

You would think I would care
There is mud on my dress
Worn soles on my shoes
My hair tangled hangs loosely
Stray wisps hiding my eyes

Do not determine depression
For I am satisfied hiding
Amongst the earthly bugs and mud
My satisfaction with appearance is lost
Lost in the inability to grasp a societal
Accomplished sentiment