Cloistered within her living walls of flesh,
Soapstone skin, breath minty fresh,
Bursting ivory, towelling dressing-gown,
Laughing as she bounces up and down.

is just another word for control freak.
But let me back up.

Who decided that things are FTW?
**** competition.
I apologize for line 4, but I wanted to make sure you know
I’m being serious.

Winning is meaningless.
The one thing the Arts had going for them
is gone.
It’s all about being the best
and it’s devastating G-d.

When I play my saxophone
at the right time with right mind
I swear John Coltrane
couldn’t recreate that.

When I write a poem
about truth or of it
I swear ee cummings couldn’t
have written it.

Expression is all that really matters,
but only to me.
The world doesn’t accept it, so
it doesn’t accept me.

That’s just the way it is.
I’m not concerned with success.
I’m not like all the rest.
I am happy and blessed.

Does my mind deceit me?
We’ll see
When I face Judge