Category: Poetry

I seldom touch the sky,Only to be hemmed in the four walls.Is it the rapacious hands pulling me down?Or the wariness overpowering me?I see blazing lights flickering at me,Blaring to escape.The unspoken words they left behind,Pierced, it flew on me.Scarred, it grew on me.The past haunts you, they said.Let slip, they said. The fine threads…