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Suit of Armor
I caught my breath tonight
When my soul spun into oblivion
I reached out to catch it
But the wind whipped it away
I wondered what if felt like to be a suit of armor
Standing at attention shining and strong
Waiting for something to come fill it
And I wondered can anyone just fill it
Or was it molded to fit just the right shape
And I often wondered how many people tried to squeeze in it
To wear it with pride when riding into battle
Only to bring it back battered and dented
To realize that fit just wasn’t right
Was their someone there to hammer the contours back into place
To buff out the scratches and patch over the holes
And did this make the armor stronger or weak
Could it ever return to what it was
The strength it possessed when it was first worn
Will it be polished and shined to be put in a museum
Or will it age and rust abandoned in a field
To become a house for the birds
Shelter for mice and home to the weeds
A lone sentry forever protecting emptiness inside
Copyright ©
Jeremy Moore
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