Michale Graves

Bits of skin

Little Bits of skin. I begin to tear away, to tear away.

Pin prick, beware I sold my, sold my soul.

A restless reaction to what becomes the norm. Sold my soul for 

little bits of skin.

All seeing eyes they sense the worst, something streaks across the sky.

Why won't you do anything, why must I be the one who's always sane.

Something takes a hold of you, you should be ashamed.

The deafening sound of the teacher tolls, stand up and state your claim.

Rise, speak and then heard. Am I evil?