The Shell I Occupy

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This anatomy that I live with each day,
Contains me in every way.

Sometimes when it’s healthy and strong,
The core feels weary lacking an inner song.

I dress my shell so the world may see,
But the I called me, awaits its destiny.

Trapped in a covering that I shall not lose,
But the I called me appreciates what I did not choose.

I find me when I lose my shell,
My imperfections all go to hell.

The shell that I occupy is not my own,
My parent’s gift, a genetic loan.

My shell and I live separate lives,
When I meditate he close his eyes.

We pray together but exist apart,
A match made in heaven from the start.

I have seen my shell but he only hears of me,
And just like him I await to see.

Am I an effervescent or some vaporous mass?
Am I rich or poor? Don’t know my class.

The shell I have, I won’t have always,
But the I called me, I have to stay.

By: Jamal Archer

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