deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Flying

If you let

me be alive,

live my life,

I'll never take

flight.  Sometimes

it seems like there

is no me there: where?

Anywhere.  Yet beware

I'll just fly away

like a precious little

bird.  Where?  To close,

cage the prospect of our

otherwise lovely loving

bright nights.
Written by marcella1
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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