Oh my Tattoo.

My Ink has become the map of my life,

There’s stories forever etched on my skin.

My childhood memories,

fondness and folly.

Where flowers sprout from my veins.

A quote here,

Yoda there.

Tales of the person I am and was.

The places I’ve been,

Things I’ve seen.

Loved and Lost,

all at a cost.

A reminder to never give in,

that life is always worth living.

Deep in my bones these words sink in.

My skin a canvas.

My body is my world,

So I take these blank walls and I make them my own.

Potions and magic all around,

For I am a knight,

Oh brave and noble.

Magic is true, Magic is might,

You fly so high, as if you’re a kite.

Oh I love my Ink.

A picture book for the whole world to see.

There’s both light and dark,

I find the in-between,

The colours so bright.

My Ink is an Ode,

To the animals and earth that I love,

for one day the earth is what I’ll become.

My Writing,

And my world seeping out through my skin,

For all to see.

 

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2 thoughts on “Oh my Tattoo.”

  1. The thing I most remember about my dad is his tattoos. He had four, in black and white, on his arms. A Hawaiian hula girl, a clipper ship, crossed cannons, and a Navy anchor. Dad got them during WWII when he was a gunner’s mate in the Pacific. I loved it when he’d flex his biceps and make the hula girl dance. It’s unfortunate that I don’t have any clear photos of his tattoos, because they told the story of the most important part of his life, war. I didn’t appreciate that fact until it was too late.

    Liked by 1 person

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