When It Hits
by Bobby Pease
I unwillingly woke up to a morning where
I peeled paint from steps
For hours in the sun burnt afternoon
All for them to
Be scuffed up by a foot
That doesn’t belong to me.
Now I can’t lay on my back without
My skin burning. There is no use
Peeling what doesn’t come off with
I wake up tomorrow with a red back,
Naked steps, knowing I have no choice
But to paint them again.