USA

The Things in My Closet

The skeletons in my closet have warts,
fractured bones and angry scowls,
arms stretched in frustration
reaching out for the beyond.

I keep them buried there,
far beyond the clothes bar,
past on-opened boxes,
and above my unworn shoes.

But don't think that i forget them,
oh no!
They keep me honest,
conscious of my foibles,
and the places I went wrong.

They want for daylight,
white bone turned to yellow,
where the crimson didn't gray.
So I've bought them all tuxedos
and i hope to take them dancing,
somewhere beneath the moonlight
my warty skeletons on parade.
 

© All Copyright, 10/01/06, Sebastian Pacheco.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.