You stack upon layers of material to cover who you are, coats and commitments.
They seem to bring you power to your lacking of a real version of influence.
A barricade to keep out that which may expose you to your own reality of thought.
It gives you shelter from the downpour of that existence that you hide from.
The rampart of reason filling coffers of convenience to satisfy that you do not want.
In jubilance you boast of bold moves, despite the creature of comfort upon your back.
No guardian could save you, no love can find you behind that garrison you have built.
© Jeph Rants
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