Naked

Naked, pretending to be
perfect and dressed up
in hidden glory whilst
yes, it is
too late to recover any start
and to figure out a blind
beginning
Conscious on how you
dare to use me or not
weak on my purposes
expecting to be just
adored instead instead
miles away of being
well known
The monotone sound
of such a young and
unreasonable rage
reminds unconscious
feelings I might
have had once, twice
not oh so many times
Should have just known
me before,
before and better
than myself