Silicone

I'm not sure exactly what sort of poem this is. I would say it's a dialouge driven poem of sorts. Read on. To be fair, I think it may be my new favorite.

Hello, nice smile. Want to stay for a while?

Sure, you've got style.

Want to know me?

Well, you see...

Want to love me?
I've got places to be...

How could you bring me so low?

I know no should be no, but you know...

Can we please be free? You, me, the pair to be?

No, we can't be, but...

Can I please be free? My life, with me, the man to be?

You surely can't believe...

Believe in being free?

You're plastic, as plastic as being free or trees.

What's a tree if trapped in silicone?

Me. You've always known.

Trees, a plastic lie for spastics nursing plastic?

We're all plastic, and I think it's fantastic.

Is this clockwork orange, to be enslaved and free, the life to be?

Take out that reference, have some originality!

But is it the life to be?

Oh, yes, a free life indeed, free as a tree.

Silicone, indeed.

 

Author's Note

Please review harshly and constructively so that I may improve.