Heart-skinned

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There’s an ocean of people outside my front door

And I don’t want the buffet of waves anymore

They’re all making decisions, and none are for me

And I don’t want to get trampled under so many feet

So please just excuse me if I stay here inside

Yes I’m aware that-Just please, let me hide

It’s not that I hate them, that would put me at ease

If I had some derision, or thought all be diseased

But no, I’m wide open, and there the rub lies

That I’m a figure for loving for all that pass eyes

I got put in all wrong ways, and I’m missing some parts

And you wouldn’t believe where . I’m keeping my heart

And this thick-skin that is fabled, that some people grow?

They some how reversed it-oh wouldn’t you know.

I got patched up with soul-skin, somehow at the start

And now I am living my life as all heart.

 

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About Keats

Oh I'm sassy and I'm sexy, So silly sweet-and-sour Delightfully disastrous And deliciously dour I'm flippantly foolish, Filled I am with fear Can't concentrate completely, and my conduct isn't clear But to bravely be my best I Bring bravado back, BEHOLD!

4 responses »

      • I’m not that organized, either. The rhythm is a natural thing for me. The only time I have to REALLY pay attention is when it feels “off”. And then it’s only to figure out how to “fix” it. I can’t put together a story or essay to save my life due to my poor organizational skills.

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