javamonkey insights into the world of caffeinated monkeys

Monday, January 31, 2005   Be Gentle A poem; be gentle (it's just a draft). Raw emotion balled up like twine; I don’t understand those people that wear Their hearts on their sleeves— I can’t do that. I’d be covered in blood By the end of the day And my chest would collapse. Tits cannot replace a heart. So many people out there wear their heart like a badge Out there on their sleeve. Right or left, it matters not. Anger is what you get when you poke it. I wear my soul out there on my sleeve Where my heart should be. Black with sin, dirt reflects my dirty self, Horns and a triangle tail mimic my own devilment. Not a pretty shade of crimson red Not iron-rich but depraved. I won’t show you a fragile heart but I will sell you What the devil most wants. posted by jaime | 11:41 PM 0 comments

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