Free-falling with ink and metal; it's a blur.

It's the time when the colors blur and the hands spin,
oblivious to the world and unconcerned with your needs.
You watch the clouds pass by as if leaving you behind;
you tend to beg if you come close to loneliness.

You regret the ink and metal closed so tightly in your hand,
just like the postage stamp sitting idly by as you grasp any
sense of contemplation that comes to mind at such a time.

The air became thinner, and you fell into free-fall, pardoning
any type of innovation to stop this inexplicable source of freedom.
Such a freedom which boxes you in and pulls you down, questioning
any opposition to this so-called law of gravity.

If the picture clears up, let me know, dear friend.
I'd never know by the letter you'll most likely never send.
The payment of it all sits idly by as you grasp any
sense of contemplation that comes to mind at such a time.

The second stanza was amazing. It managed to stray on the right side of cliche, and was really beautiful.

'You fell into free-fall'. The repetition of falling didn't work so well, you could've replaced it with something like 'collapsed'; just an idea.

0-0

I really like it. It's like my writing but on a more complex scale.

Good job

Thank you both! =)

Yeah, I wasn't so sure that part worked either. I'll think of how to work that in instead. =)