Tailor-madeA Poem by PeteI can forego the seeming advantages of cities without misgiving. - Thoreaulike a crude joke whispered in the back of a church walking down the artificial avenues of this prophylactic place called a city trying to think of words that rhyme with pity inconspicuously seeking to fit in on phony streets that lead nowhere not sure if i'm cool or a fool i pass by people without a leg to stand on both literally and figuratively with their airless chests puffed out it's okay as long as they have a cigarette and the rest of today we all hide behind masks now they're visible and real in this three-ring circus of life i wear the religion of my tattered soul in a faithful, double breasted, birthday suit worn out and distressed it's okay at least i'm dressed with chapped lips and comfortable rags souls worn and heels missing floating on dancing shoes of suede fitting just fine my daily outfits prayed tailor-made © 2020 PeteAuthor's Note
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