Skin

Hold me black as my skin tears, the pains of being a human but my mind is still in place, I had a chat with my skin but it did not correspond with the elements of which my mind was, it wasn't responsive, alone I was within the confinement of the conversation, still forced to steer within the voids of being a human, I just don't comprehend this dogma of human beings as though the skin is a channel of information, if so, shut your mouth and let it SPEAK!, this sea of self runs down through fountains and its erosion had left eroded minds trapped in skins.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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