That shirt was never meant for public
That chequered red T-shirt
Red or black, can’t be sure,
It was forever worn underneath something else
Like everything else we weren’t meant to see
The others must have spotted it before me
But like me were already too weak to warn me
Of all the stealth
All the play
And all the hurt
Underneath all his calm and charm
Thus for too late was I left to perceive
The blood in the red, shadowed by the black
So adorning that which caught my eye last night,
Afar and ablaze yet super clear to my short sight,
Clearly sliced and shaped by the blacksmith of all crafts,
Treaded on and flown over but forever afresh.
Lonely at times, like now, but never with a grumble,
Must be the most priceless embellishment without a price.
Worshipped, studied and painted through centuries lost,
Caesar must have incalculably spied on it,
But poor soul could only dream of dominion over it,
That amazing airless sack of rock and dust.