Poem -

Seven Year Itch

Why is deep so taboo

The real me

The real you

Embers glowing in the dark

Brewing and stewing

Waiting for a spark
 
Why does the core

Remain so hidden

Behind an iron door

Pressure building up

Temperature rising

Ready to soar
 
Molten ash filled with glass

Chunks of steel

Ingots of brass

Diamonds and rubies

The ill and the precious

Treasures and curses

Unable to trespass
 
Let's let it all out

With whisper

With shout

How we really feel

What we love

What we hate

What ever it's about
 
Aren't you tired of living in silent mode

Sharing a bed

The same abode

Turning away

Facing opposite walls

When we both just need to explode

 

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