Clothes don’t make the man
They make the illusion…
A fabric fabrication!
I arrive seaside
And strip down
Removing layers of inhumanity
And socialized shame
And at once become myself
The real me
Naked as the day I was born
Sun kissed and happy
And free!
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Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: June 16th, 2025 07:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Damaso, RSM0812
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Comments3
Fine choice of words and the symbol of cloths as the fabrication (nice play on words) of society and its demands. A fave
A bare statement that authenticity is a powerful force. Whether in moments of physical or emotional unburdening, stepping into the world as your true self is an act of courage and liberation. The world may try to impose expectations, but there is beauty in living unfiltered, in embracing who you are without apology. You are worthy, you are enough, and your freedom—whatever form it takes—is something to celebrate. 🕊️🙏🏻
This reminds me of the naked king.
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