An expression on the first period

My dirty little uniform,

hung on the wall of my dorm.

Slightly to the left, its largely torn

and that stain – where did it come from?

My dirty little uniform,

has been with me for so long.

Maybe a few years after I was born,

had scribbled on it,

even drawn.

My dirty little uniform,

hangs steady  – unnerved by the storm

of all my thoughts still warm;

But, that stain

where the fuck did that stain come from?

Maybe the stain speaks of a worm

which crawled on me

on my way back home.

Had bitten till the blood had come on

bloody blood

of that sting so strong.

Or maybe the stain is from the lawn,

or the garden of the school long gone.

The painting class – “red nose of the clown”

Spilled over ; as red as the flesh stung upon.

My dirty little uniform,

speaks of a time forgone.

And sings a long forgotten song

recites the prayers I had sworn upon.

Stain is pure

and magically grown

its beautiful as it stays on its own

it won’t ever go – even if harshly blown!

It will stay forever

on my dirty little uniform.

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