Elastic Me a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr

“Elastic Me” Elastic skin pulled back again and again. Trying to slow down cells of created textured time to find that the heart is still the same age and nothing really has changed. The blood that thickens quickens all the patterns that lead to some end. Elastic skin pulled back again and again. Nothing really changes; nothing really grasps true reality it all coagulates the same way but never truly mends deep down with in. Yes they all love your elastic skin Yes they all love your plastic ways Now go see who your true friends are and who will love you in the end. By John McKinley Pride Jr ©9/5/11

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