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Reburn The Sender Enveloped, hidden away for noone's eyes, kept silent from becoming. Strapped down to the bed of indiscretion. Marked, with a stripe of imperfection. Stamped and stapled with a mask of insecurity. Channeling the wisdom through another broken window. Allowing what we see to be the basis of betrayal. Falling down the stairs of false pretention. Once again that word we hate to mention. Mailed, with speed and procrastination, the will to just be patient. To take it all in stride, the guilt we feel inside. The wallowing we welcome from the walkaways. Sent back, a style we have yet to discover, the truth that the lies uncovered. Ripped, torn and shreaded like junk mail to the businessman. Embarking, on this the only journey with no return. |
Additional Notes:
i just wrote this poem today, i'm curious what anyone has to say about it.
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