The Town with the Dirt

I’ve got dirt all over me

I’ve been out for too long,

playing in the muds–

The sacred place where grew the flower buds… 

I grew up playing too,

But it was with ones who did not know where to stop.

With ones my innocence slipped onto the mud

Unsound, unnoticed

Now my soul’s restless as it awaits the hand of love.

Yet the mud is sacred no more 

And the soul is sedated much more.

The dirt is all over me

Seeping into me; and I feel the urge to flee.

It’s telling me to run away

For I had carried the dirt home.

Where mom’s furniture is white;

Where brother’s laughter is loud;

Where people know where to stop.

I know I’ve got to run away 

from the town with the dirt