Spit-Shine Poem by Robert R. Railey

Spit-Shine

He was a slave to fashion, always dressed to the nth, and when he ventured out into public you could be assured that he would always be dressed in the latest fashion
And since his clothes were always neatly pressed, his shoes had to be shiny too, for in his own mind he was a model for others to see
His motto was simple, be a peacock and strut, for he sincerely believed that those were the ways of the world
But what he'd left out of the total equation was a mighty paradox, for not only were his insides all molted, but they were in complete disarray
His solution to life was far too simple for most, and especially since he believed that by putting on a good front that everybody would think that he was kind and benevolent
In fact, however, the complete opposite was true, for he really didn't care about anything else, including his own pedigree
Come up-penance, they cried, one and all, and then insisted that he come clean
Disrobe or change, was forever the cry, or better yet, why don't you just try to be more like us
But then once he'd become one of the masses, all plain and all the same, he knew that he missed terribly being different and so he quickly returned to being his old unique self