Petals flew through the wind
among the overcrowded
morning sky.

Patches of clouds splashed
onto the canvas
that’s my sky.

A seemingly perfect picture
really broken pieces
of glass shards.

The skies cloud over,
the smell of thunder taints the air,
and the rain begins to fall
from my eyes.

There's a book of poetry
in the lines of my hands,
that no one wants to read.

I've lived my life,
rooted in her darkness,
arms catatonic as a tree.

Unable to run or cry,
when her other prunes my flowers.

Night skies are proof
There's more than meets the eye
The two-way mirror that reflects fear
Can be shattered to reveal
What's been patiently waiting behind
All this time

'Why not a happy poem?
To smile the day away.
Why not? I could use it, so can you.
Why not a happy poem?
About flowers and blue skies.
Tell me darling, why not a happy poem?'

There is nothing better than setting skies,
Or the way you smile with your tired eyes.
When our fingers hug and our knuckles kiss
When you trace my skin, moments like this are something I'll miss.
Don't forget me once you are gone,
Know I'll be thinking of you at dusk and at dawn.

Arc of light that lit your tears,
couldn't  lighten the darkest of your eyes.

Last night it shone in the skies,
the same arc with the purest light.

My riddled mind failed to read,
the arc was nothing but the moon itself,

because darker than the skies ,
he found your eyes with darkest skies

Blanketing skies
that quietly balance hurt clouds
of fluffy white
dipped in burning cliche
And subtly forgotten
in night as black as night
Stars ***** the dark
and bleed light
which seeps into the minds of the mad
and tickles their insanity
tearing them apart

56 minutes after two
My skies are 50 shades of gray
In my feelings so deep,
That you could probably paint
A picture will all my blues