Skin

And what of skin, how much is there in the world? It covers all who’ve blood inside, and even those who don’t have pride. But that’s by the way, and not so clever; it also covers crocodiles (leather) and not to forget smart umbrellas, but that’s only a skin of weather’s. No emotions or mistakes, or tattoo art, no sphincter skin through which to fart. And did you know, now battleships grey, all have a “skin”? A film of plastic, stealthy-thin, to fox approaching missile’s skim. And those with thin skin easily cry; while those with thick skin, hardly try. Ahh! The answers plain, those without, they feel no pain; for when they scratch there is no pleasure, treat infestation at their leisure. So let’s remember those with skin, and not dwell on, the man of tin; laud the despot, or man of steel; just kiss and stroke; make love and feel!