Born Clothed

not sure why I keep rhyming lately

 

Without a home, it sits bare

the naked soul, sold it's clothes

there is no future, nothing to wear

hopeless and lonely, it sits and it stares

finds no use for: Patches and stitches

                        Reactionary itches

thinks perfection is found when nobody's listening

 

It's in the nude we seach for

peace like this...

the shell discarded from inner-self,

the spirit retarded by weight of world

when the soul's clothes have been ruined

or locked in a twist...

It's in the nude we search for

peace like this

 

The future cannot be written in

invisible ink...Cannot be written at all,

the naked soul thinks, so tear off its clothes

and burn them quick, let it dance in the nude,

or sit and think

 

Its brightest moment will burst in the dark,

the triggering sparks your explosive components,

so hold it and hold it and hold it and hold it

real fire won't burn, despite what they've told you

Reviews

[Katrina]

you rhyme SO much better than i do. and most people, really. i hate rhyming. i get all cross-eyed doing it. unless it's accidentally. but then it's like part of it rhymes and the rest doesn't and it sounds all lopsided. BUT ANYWAY -- enough about how awesome I am and onto how awesome you are.

I think it's like impossible for you to write a bad poem. Really. My favorite part was : "It's in the nude we seach for / peace like this... / the shell discarded from inner-self, / the spirit retarded by weight of world / when the soul's clothes have been ruined / or locked in a twist... / It's in the nude we search for / peace like this" It's nice how it starts and finishes with the same thought.

So, yeah. Same as what I always think basically. Where's my Mike stamp?

xxx