FicWad

acrylic

i met a man and a suit, one day
whilst resting tired eyes
the suit had been sprinting down its path
while the man was content to glide
coasting, toes grazing pebbles
suit sent dust into the sky
surprisingly, the cloth possessed
a set of narrowed eyes
pinstripe lips ripped at the seams
bursts of pocket lint and muffled cries
saud the man, "them's shallow screams!
"sobs of reflection most tainted!
"it's lost the inside itself
"and become what joe has painted!
"it's found it hates its production
"hates its newfound hem
"wants nothing more than to return
"revert to simple thread again"
and the suit wailed, louder still
for torn sleeves and patches
for hating how it could be compared
to heavily locked latches
the man refused tow ear the suit
said, "design must match within"

but masks are not capable of change
and vanity's a sin