PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I met a man down in Georgia

Said he’s got fabric on his mind

Dreamt since he was a child

To go off and get credentials

So he could design

Clothes for the rich and famous



It makes me smile thinking about

How important our egos have become

Or, at least how important we believe they should be

But, like a passing trend

In the end, all we wish for is what we still want to say

And, how ultimately unimportant our ego is vain



There was a woman next door

Three children, no lover in sight

Instead of words, she had books for eyes

And, they told of hardship

Of unforgiveness and bastard pride

Against the breaker of her heart



Perfect record in my religion

Or, so I asked for in prayer

But, my lack of faith was a crushing weight to bare

Shattering me over and over me

Like the presence of discipline's glare

Upon a guilty conscience



It makes me smile thinking about

How important our egos have become

Or, at least how important we believe they should be

But, like a passing trend

In the end, all we wish for is what we still want to say

And, how ultimately unimportant our ego is vain



I met a man down in Georgia

And, there was a woman next door

And, I was just as broken