A Flawless Display


United States
34° 45' 40.8744" N, 87° 4' 56.658" W

Speak your words to me once more, my darling
So prim, so proper, so rehearsed
Appeasing, but unreachable
Soothing to the ears, but unrelatable
Why protect me, love?
We all know I take as well as I dish
But no one gets it all, do they?

Spend so long perfecting, over and over
A magic land of perfectly wrapped emotions
Neatly stacked under the tree for all to see
Lights of thoughts, ornamented with expressions
Wrapped in garland of impressing genius
with a charismatic smile to top
Shining for all to see and disarming possible foes
But will it ever be enough?

A sleigh full of presents to give to your peers - but only what you choose
With the eight tiny reindeer carrying this shoulder-crushing load,
you call each of their names to assure no mistakes
that no ones sees more than you allow
lest what they see is more than they can handle
On caring, on daring, on swearing, on mingle
On writing, exciting, on charming and single
The traits you deem acceptable - up front, on display
To prove that there is part of you to love
But who can love a display window, my dear?

So pleasing to the eye, so perfectly constructed
All admire the impressive craftsmanship, the detail
All envy the mind capable of producing such beauty
We can all stand and gape, but there is a problem
For separating the beautiful display from the world beyond
is a thick, disconcerting wall of glass - cold, infamiliar, unpenetrable
Protecting you from disappointment, from the worries of this world
But who wants a man in a glass box?

Standing so tall, so confident, ready to confront whatever is thrown - the perfect toy soldier
Yet without that panel of glass, breaks as easily as a delicate porcelain doll
Dress you up in different stereotypes, yet none of them seem to fit
You much prefer the unpredictable uniform of ambiguity, don't you, sweetheart?
Keep people guessing, wondering, waiting for the big reveal that is never to come
Because not even you are sure of which outfit to wear when you stand exposed in the end
So you wear whatever fits the situation, the person, the social standards you wish to portray
Yet all of these hand-me-downs are getting heavy, aren't they, darling?
Weighing you down, so you just throw all of it into the back of the closet,
hide your magazines under the bed so your mother won't see
the real son she's raised all along
But who wants to play with a broken toy?

Little boys and girls never ask for the malfunctioning jack-in-the-box afraid to come out
The boomerang that fails to return to one person for fear of monogomy
Or the train that refuses to stay on track because of the destination that has been set
So you just box yourself up, claim to be a collection piece - made for looking, not touching
Tell tales of your importance, your value, everything that will cause us to want to have you
But warn us not to open or all value will be lost, for you fear what's waiting inside will disappoint
And they will only take you back to the store to sit with the other misfits and misunderstoods
collecting dust and waiting til next Christmas when some sap will come along,
buy your carefully rehearsed pitch, and take you home
Because who wants to be alone on the holidays?

After the holidays, when the shiny new collectors' item has been sufficiently displayed
and everyone has ooh'd and ahh'd at the majesty and the acclaimed value,
then where will you be? Just sitting on another shelf, collecting another type of dust
and waiting for an appreciative glance here and there, a nod of approval
But what good does this do?

A person of your standard should be reached, opened, touched
Should feel the hands of someone who will play with you despite the flaws
Despite the dirty laundry hiding in your hamper underneath the norm
Who will come at the glass wall of your defenses with a sledgehammer
then cradle you in their understanding arms covered in deep cuts
Willing to bleed for you, to get to you, who will love not only the display,
but the man hiding inside and will accept everything you are
along with everything you will never be
But who wants to tamper with such a flawless display?


MVP-Most Valuable Poet

like this poem alot
very expressive-great job and keep writing

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