I walk where voices fade to a hush,
between the crowd, and I feel no rush.
Their laughter rings, a distant chime,
While I trace stories out of time.
I wear the wind like a second skin,
soft armor where the world won’t pin.
I speak in whispers, songs unsung,
a language for the ones unstrung.
Their circles tighten, neat and bold,
But I belong on cold edges.
Not broken—just a different hue,
a shadow with a gentler view.
There’s strength in standing on the rim,
In dancing, where the light is dim.
An outsider, yes—but not alone,
My heart has built a quiet throne.
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Author:
DLewis88 (
Offline) - Published: July 16th, 2025 05:34
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 5
Offline)
Comments2
A beautiful poem that casts its mood of aa soft and gentle world. The line (I wear the wind like a second skin,) is magnificent and I wish that I had thought of it. Very poetic. Loved it
Thank you.
Most welcome
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