Skin War Zone

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Delicate pinpricks,
Whilst the moist raindrops,
Pour down on me.
I am un-noticed.
Like the wind, I am there,
Beyond the surface,
Of the air.

Folicles, each attacked
by breeze,
And wheather
Of many kinds,
I am noticed,
Burnt by rays,
Soothed by lotion,
But scarred for days.

Protective, in ways,
But more of a burdern,
With many precausions,
Day by day.
Almost a hunter, with a
Natural substance,
your skin to the bone.

Cause of destruction.
The actions of skin,
Tones of deep purple,
Colours of jet black,
No point in denying though,
If I left you'd want me back.

Boneata Bell 15/04/2011 01.14

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