I keep an empty suit of armor
at the foot of my bed
as though it were a symbol
of some period in my life
or a protector standing watch
ready to stand and fight
until he is rust
disintegrated and useless

I keep an empty suit of armor
at the foot of my bed
as a loaner kept on hand
searching for the one to fit
slash the demons that guard me
throw me over his shoulder
like a trophy
slung over his horse's haunches

I keep an empty suit of armor
at the foot of my bed
as a morbid decoration
like a stuffed deer
to hang on the wall
purchased at a garage sale
to make you think
that I've ended my search

06/07/2006

Author's Note: Since so many people have questioned the connection between the title and the poem... the best way I can put it, is that boys and the suit of armor are interchangeable. As in, whether it's an actual person or a hunk of metal, they still serve the same purpose.
Which may or may not only make sense in my discombobulated excuse for a mind.

work in progress

I like the idea, I just don't think I've executed it very well.

Posted on 06/08/2006
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