PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Some silly fool was stuck at an impasse

Like traffic only slower, and what's worse,

He knew better. He'd been living by the rules

Since the schools threw him out.

Knew each one to the letter.

But this habit was well-versed.

It's like that old favorite sweater.



You couldn't give it away if you wanted to

But that's of no matter, since

You wouldn't give it away for the money in the world.

Ragged as a haggard old bum of twenty years.

This sweater has been there

Through the fears, tears, and cheers.

A more effective sweater there may never have been.

He got far more out, than he ever put in.

All the safety and security he wanted and more.

So much in fact, this safety net became a locked door.

It tied him up like a calf at a rodeo

Or calling in to the radio

A hostage, a prisoner of his very own sweater.

The sweater was better than he'd ever figured,

At sheilding his frail mind from being disfigured.

But, in protecting him so carefully, he was weakened further

By the sweater that he thought so gently perfect.

Then, towards the end when this sweater took its tolls,

The boy who would be man was made into a debtor

Held hostage more and moreso by a mafioso shirt

He learned the hardER way about being hurt.

But thanks to this sweater, this blanket, this fiend,

He had only his solitude, no loved ones, no friends.

And the hurt multiplied over and over

And over and over until he found his way around the impasse

By dying of exhaustion.