New People Poem by Madrason .

Some people have a tin can identity
and than there are some who search
-there restless heartbeats feeds a hunger -
to cast of there shells and to look for
for new identities, entities, persona
they have sensitive skins that seem to sense all
to know when to walk and to sense when to fall
they adapt to the seasons.... acclimatising
their auras are lights becoming their prism's
Oh Iris, no schism's, ‘no' surprises in gender
for they dress so well and they can all be tender
-they did not lose their innocence -
but in a sense lost their insecurity
leaving behind them independently
an all over surmising sum rising generosity. M