Blinding me
Cuts on my body
It's pitch back out
On a Sunday morning
Can't walk without tripping
I stumble back inside
Winds howling through the house
Dust piercing me
It's everywhere
On the shelf
In my clothes
Mixed in with my food
It's so stuffy
I can hardly breath
Air quality is horrible
Since the Dust Bowl started
Lights flicker on and off
I must always cover my skin
My face wrapped in a bandana
I wonder if it'll ever end
I don't really know
When I'll be free
Because I'm trappe at home
And running low on food
My water is tainted
Nothing is fresh
Except for every blast
Of dust that slices
Through the walls
Past my clothes
Into me
And my heart.
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