A blister on my foot
a spot that rubs and smarts
waddling oddly on half my shoe
to keep from crying out
no one else can see it
no one knows its there
they only see me limping 'round
trying not to make a sound
they think they know my problem
they question, whisper, accuse
if only they knew
my real problem
was not a blister or two
they claim I'm tired
lazy
crippled
spent too much time at the bar
but les cirques des yeux
aren't from drinking
they're from living
with people like you
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