Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Break away

I hate my skin, my shell, my closet

Damned irritating man,
I hope he dies.
He should unleash his energy
On someone his own size.

I’d slice him,
Hurt him,
Cut him
Down to size.
Yet, I know
This would not be wise.

Inside me, it hides.
It rears its head.
I don’t want it to kill me.
So, I pretend to be dead.

Oh you reluctant seed.
Why won’t you sprout?
Peel back and through off your skin.
Split open your shell and let out your light.
Take from my grave so that you may push back that rusty hinge.

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