In A World Made of Aluminum

My house is made from aluminum,
from the walls to even my bed.
It's getting colder in the winter,
but at least I have a place to lay my head.

Depends on who you ask,
pointing to the intentions of my heart.
Some would you tell you I'm a blessing,
while others say, I'll tear your world apart.

I'm still pending,
in my aluminum house.
Although, I may not be a lion.
I'm sure as hell not a mouse.

They tied the bottle caps,
attached them to our feet.
Now everyone will know where we've been,
when we're walking down the street.

Not everyone can be like us,
still young, naive and full of pain.
Not everyone can run like us,
finding beauty in the rain.

The glass is half empty,
but I assure you, my glass is always full.
It makes me think better of you,
and I can easily call you out on your bull.

But somehow, it turns me into a pumpkin,
in a world full where I'm a princess or prince.
Somehow I'm not so sure anymore,
for the words; they just don't mince.

I'm in a world full of aluminum,
my boots, my dresses and even my cat.
We're all made of metal slivers,
what evidence to you have to disprove that?

This poem is about: 
My community


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