Marxism and a whole lot more

You leave the womb,
Amneotic fluids coating you.
Bathed, they are gone,
But a film remains
Visible to all.
It hugs tighlty,
Clings tightly,
Wraps tightly.
Somedays, fed up,
You try to stretch it,
Peel it back,
Pinch it off.
Always, it slaps back into place
Snuggly into your grooves
Your second skin
Forever ensnares you
Even at death
It clings
Body buried beneath
It clings
Remains rotting
It clings.
I’m only bones now,
Bones and the film
And still they conclude
“Ah,
This one was of this class”

Old poem, just wanted to update.
Some things I want to write on here but I have second thoughts. That or I’ll dilute what I originally planned on writing.

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