In the years before ,
When the skin was fearless,
and the need for art was reckless ,
A feeling outlined the shape of a stencil,
And the pain was temporary and later came to a stand still .
The exposure of spectators to a common art yet unique design ,
Reinforced empty pockets to enlarge that artistic line .
The Body , Same but now old ,
Hurting but yet cold,
Has wrinkled impressions of an art.
The eyes watch a line of younger bodies waiting at the same Mart .
it turned into disfigured blots of ink ,
should have known , even preserved desserts later stink .

Posted from WordPress for Windows Phone


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