All my life I've had this armor
it's rusted
it's old
but it fits
and feels right on me
often
others come to me
offering new armors
without rust
and of stranger metals
But I see the oils
The poisoned oils they used
that would kill me
who I was
and who I am
so I sit here
polishing and working
till the dull crimson hue
seems as good as new
All my life I've had this armor
I will keep and care for it
it is my identity
it is what people see
when they see me
The Lions Pride Writers Guild [Home of the best writers on G
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