Of Poets and Skies

We write in silence about sound
We write in sadness about happiness
We write in tears about laughter
We write alone about a crowd
We write of light from utter darkness
We paint stars from a dark room
We offer insight from our confusion
We write of freedom from a cage
We pen the sky from beneath a sea
We write of love with ripped out hearts
We pen beauty from our pain
Our heart is our pen
And our blood is our ink
Our scars are our words
And our hope hides in-between our lines
We write of home from abandoned buildings
We go to bed alone at night
Writing love poems on the cold side of the pillow
Closing our eyes hoping to see
A world where we are free indeed.

This poem is from my second poetry book: The Calligraphy of God