We are Prudes

I want to fly-off fifteen floors,

“Why shouldn’t you”,

The convoluted life, they fuss,

Hell no fun without it, you say!

Crazy life no time,

Yet time we manufacture

To shed our tears,

No trouble there albeit.

Losing it, whining. Empirical.
Things not occuring so normally 
To you. Above that the life’s so

Messy. ‘Cause we make it so.

Trusting, go figure what is,

Happy with the cuts and wounds.

Alright if we’re healed, but

Souvenirs are fun to us.

The mask, we just enjoy 
The illusion. A fragile puritan inside.
And so scared are we
of the wolves around.  

Angry and freckled but no

Retribution, something you don’t get.
Why immolate, you ask,
With looks so empty. 

Finding answers for us, 
With that semblance questioning

Why you hate it all so much?
We'll get an answer, trust me! 

Lost on words, still I make an effort.

Garbled, they sound, but the heart  

Concurs. And, no trouble it is to you.

Perfect it is, you convince me!

Who wants to brand us, 
Let them come and we will tell, 
Who we are and where we live. 
We are just a bunch of prudes

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This is my response to WriteOnEdge to write a 500 word response using a Millie's Tavern sign and the song THE BEASTIE BOYS - no sleep till Brooklyn.