I stock shelves at a grocery market for money.
It's what I do.
Not who I am.
But I saw some flowers sketched onto a can.
It was a vine of flowers.
Coiled around the "S" on the words "Green beans"
Oh factory man,
You poor man.
Locked in the binds of labor,
No body will see you or your art.
Nobody but me,
And I am nobody.
just like you.