Silver Ink

by Madison Naylor aged 16

I draw my lines in silver,
Each dancing around the other,
The floor gets busy, and they begin to glide into one another.
My silver seeps, into every inch,
my silver covers, every intrusive place,
my silver embeds itself, layer upon layer.

Silver weaves in and out,
A warming flowing river,
The current is mesmerising,
Pulled in, it drowns you,
Head under, can’t breathe,
Nobody can find you here.

It holds my hand,
A friend.
My beautiful hidden friend,
The longer we are apart the more I miss you
I yearn for your cold touch.

You touch places that nobody else will see,
Just you and me.
Can it always be, you and me?
Nobody else is there for me like you,
My crutch, my dependable.

The Poetry Zone

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