Miracle

Toss me aside
in my undewear
left out on the street screaming
yelling at buildings that can not answer
tossing my anger at the clouds
not ever knowing if
letting me back in would ever be an option
And that is ok by me
pissing in the street
crapping in a can
farting for the warmth of my brethren
holding strong for all of those
who cry into
black pillows in the nights
that are blacker than any sack of feathers
holding strong for those who shun me
toss me aside into the depths
of rudimentary functions
all contained within existance past
I cry because
I do not have a black pillow
and no one holds
strong for me
except me
and the woman I hold tight at night against
pillows so white they would make a blind man see