Hugged in a swaddle of baby blue
Tying a knot to your uncontrolled body,
Praying all the loud voices won't overwhelm you
Singing to your magical soul
They dress themselves in a black veil of survival
and preach about being special
They don't know the first thing
but that little girl in blue
She knows, she's been sleeping deeply
Stretching gently, hiding in her window pane
Losing sunlight, staying sane
Depriving herself of her social glide
Apologizing for things no one can control
because of those weighted footsteps
Weighted anvil of words
Weighted galaxy of bodies
but one thing she'd understand.
If she took some steps outside
Is
The Sky. Doesn't. Pressure. Her
She's wanted under their soft colors
YOU ARE READING
The Sky Doesn't Pressure Me
Poetry"My life was filled with expectations Added from the other generations The Stars, The Moon, The Sky, it didn't mind They are here for me at all times" -WON SECOND PLACE IN THE BIG DIPPER AWARDS- -4/19/21- #13 in poetry collection out of 7.6k stori...
