Poem Inside

I may be sh*t,

But there's a poem inside,

I may be beyond redemption,

But there's a poem,

A poem of pride,

I may be proud,

My neck may be stiff,

But there's a poem inside,

I can be spikey,

But there's a poem inside,

My heart under lock and key,

A place for my poem to  hide,

I bite your fingers before you get near me,

But there's a poem inside,

With toothmark scarred fingers,

You finally open me,

And read the poem inside,

It says;

I am quite scared,

And all alone,

And there is no place,

That I can call home,

And I am not worthy of love,

Not even from above,

Please,

Please,

Help,

I can scarcely manage,

A yelp,

As your scarred hands,

Start to gently cradle my heart,

It hurts to stand aside,

And let you read,

My poem inside.

M. Joseph Burt  (22.8.6)