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Kat's Poems
Take the Clouds from the Skye
Almost unreal
His piercing blue eyes
It's what he is known for
They call him Skye

Soft brown hair
Falls into his eyes
As it run my fingers through it
To take the clouds from the Sky

A splitting image of scarred perfection
Leads me to believe that he is my love
He claims he is not worthy
But it is I that feel that is not good enough

His pale skin scarred from a past much worse than mine
His father's hands crimson

He brought hell upon his own flesh and blood
Covered soft hearts with distrust
Skye pleaded for him to come back
But he could care less buried under all the drugs.

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