Saturday, 20 June 2009

Identity.

Oh, I wish, I wish I wasn't here,
Then I wouldn't have identity to fear.
Feeling good inside my shell,
Decorated with clothes and sure-tells.

My core is vibrant but my skin is black;
My spirit was slacking so it got the sack.
Hunched inside a towering block,
Feeling like a pitted rock.

Someone take me and add some spice;
Trade my mixing bowl and insert a surprise.
The inventory inside me is untagged
And finding an item is tiring and staggered.

Your disappointment only feeds my beast,
And informs me you find my courage fleeced.

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