This poem was written by Jesus Nixon -- copyright 2001 -- All rights are reserved, so please ask permission before copying or taking for your personal use --

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untitled This leathered skin I find myself trapped within So old and worn So briused Torn It forms a shell Around my heart Much like a paper stone Cast in darkness I sink, swallow Wrapped up in my banner Of pale grey isolation A caged bird Condemnation These beggar's hands Falling prey to touch They yearn and pine They ask too much And all I ever wanted was Everything that I could clutch Is it want? Need? Unsatisfied greed? I douse it in gasoline A bonfire of futility

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