my little book of poems

Pure

Do you hold something close?

Something near and dear?

Something so precious and pure that you won't even speak of it?

Of course you do we all have that thing

But it won't be there long

Society, Them, they are just going to come down and rip it from your grip

And they'll dangle it in front of your face with the noose around your neck

It'll get tighter and tighter until it's so tight you can't breath

Your thing still there

But they'll drop it and it'll shatter and break and be no more

And all you can do is hang from your little noose snd watch as they laugh and you suffer until you've breathed your last

We've all tried to stop it I'm sure

And if your thing is still dangling reach out grab it

Don't be afraid to make it yours again

Hold it and never let go

Keep it hidden in your back pockets until it becomes useful

Only then show society that you've got it and its yours

I really do my best writing at one o'clock in the morning :)