Untouched

I often miss the gray skies
as I lick the wounds on my heart.
With easeful eyes,
chained to the confinement of ideas
all within a polluted city.
I am one of those who admire the world
and express the unique imaginations
that keep me up at night.
When I knot words together,
I get to peel this suit of skin
and become the front cover
of my own memoir.
Ink will help me remain untouched
as it makes me feel alive again.

Reviews

[LapseOfMind]

A wonderful expression of the majority of us here. Luckily for me, I live in the Pacific Northwest of the states and enjoy an almost endless supply of grey skies. I truly enjoyed this poem, wonderfully written