Plastic life seeps down my throat
A melted mess
A call to cool and mold
And I can’t breath
It’s taking all the space in me…
I cannot live like this
I cannot die like this
Separated from myself
Packaged and placed
Where their business is based
I will not be bought
And I will not be stolen
Don’t touch me
Tonight is the night
That this product breaks free…
Now I will be
The soft eyes that compliment your smile
The hands on your waist
The joy on your face
I will be
The wind that carries your voice
The curve of your lips
Your warm fingertips
I will be
A message of hope
When you’re weary
A blanket of love
When you’re cold
I will be
The ladder that carries your feet
Into my arms
Away from all harms…
Tonight I break free
These plastic confines
Will not hold
The passion in me
Stephen Thomas
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/life-on-aisle-5-third-shelf-from-the-floor-on-your-left/
