trying to convince people
how smart i was,
covered in dirt and grime,
paint
and debris,
knuckles bleeding
from a day of blue collar work.
i'd tell them
about college,
the office job,
brothers and sisters
who achieved.
the poems and stories
published.
don't judge me by the dirt
under my nails,
the torn shirt,
the grizzled beard,
the lunch pail.
it took a while to get over
that nonsense
having worked for enough
lawyers and doctors,
corporate shills
and what not.
it took some time, but
eventually i felt
lucky to have gotten
out and made
my own way.
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