deepundergroundpoetry.com
Funny Little Flights of Life
Once again something is on my mind
I am aware that I need to learn to unwind
But I'm a tired clock, still ticking
And I will click until the end
When my pendulum stops swinging
And there is no more kindness to lend
I am a bird with a broken wing
Tired from flight, no desire to sing
A humble canary, or a cockatoo
Some funny little bird
With a song in her heart
But no words to my story
That is falling apart
Not so much falling, but coming to end
The strangeness continues to awkwardly bend
Yet all of the components are becoming one
But a new chapter will begin, sure as the sun
This book is nearly over and was a good read
I will place my old copy on my shelve,
Its broken sleeve facing me
I am aware that I need to learn to unwind
But I'm a tired clock, still ticking
And I will click until the end
When my pendulum stops swinging
And there is no more kindness to lend
I am a bird with a broken wing
Tired from flight, no desire to sing
A humble canary, or a cockatoo
Some funny little bird
With a song in her heart
But no words to my story
That is falling apart
Not so much falling, but coming to end
The strangeness continues to awkwardly bend
Yet all of the components are becoming one
But a new chapter will begin, sure as the sun
This book is nearly over and was a good read
I will place my old copy on my shelve,
Its broken sleeve facing me
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