Running

Rain against my skin.
Wet clothes clinging tight.
I’m running, running, running away.
Running, running, running away
from the light.
I’ve never been afraid of darkness,
always welcomed its black grasp,
always loved the icy wind,
shivered in night’s welcome rasp.
I’ve never really liked the daylight.
There’s nowhere for me to hide.
I curl within my own thick skin,
and don’t let anyone inside.
Don’t let anyone inside.
I’ve never really liked the daylight.
I can never trust my eyes.
It’s hard to see beneath the mask
and every mask is made of lies.
All we see is made-up lies.
Rain against my skin.
Wet clothes clinging tight.
I’m running, running, running away.
Running, running, running away
from the light.
But I can’t stop the sun from rising.
Every morning dawn will come.
I’m running, running, running, running
what am I really running from?
Rain against my skin,
coming from the darkened sky.
I’m running, running, running away.
Running, running, running away.
I don’t know why.
- Usagi's blog
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Loved your poem, very
Loved your poem, very interesting. Think you used running too many times. Keep on writing!