• July 2013
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Afraid to face the days without
a cloak, a wrap
to hold the Outside out
the Inside in
and draw the boundary line of Me

Some dash from rack to rack
trying on, then casting off
in a restless quest
to find the one that suits;
the shape that fits

Some take the first one offered,
blind to holes worn in by time,
and bending their lives, their minds,
they shape themselves to fit their shroud
then wear it, without question, to the grave


2 Responses

  1. So beautiful….

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