Beautiful Idiosyncrasies
What if I were to lie?
What, if I were lye?
Don't you look at me that way.
Don't you look away!
The blond hairs on your back
I know it's cold.
Where are you going with this?
Wherever you are told.
Dance now, it's a stage.
The machine rotors turn.
The cabinets stocked with capitalism.
My Beautiful Idiosyncrasies.
Copyright © Keith Baker | Year Posted 2011
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