I'm lost
in the world around
me
the world has turned its back on
me
with no explanation
and no map
of how to get back
to civilization

not even a scratch in the dust

Black trench coats
Brown boots
laced tight against
my kind
US
those between thirteen
and nineteen
the teenagers
the rebels
the bad ones

yes, that's us

the salty stereotypes
of the earth

I'm lost for words
to comeback
that vicious accusation

I'm drowning
in the world around
me
in the papers and books and responsibility thrust upon
me
with no instruction manual
not even a cover sheet
or a letter

or a drop of highlighter ink
to speak of

I guess we must go it alone