A Possible

By
I feel as alive as a flock of birds.
twisting turning
gliding diving
in control
out of mind
in the wind
out of the coldness,
these birds control their fate.
they are my ideal,
the world's perfection,
and maybe I am becoming one...
hopefully...
even though one bird will probably be shot causing the wholeness to shatter.
that will be the my end.
maybe terrible,
I think meaningful.





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Poetry Lover said...
Dec. 18, 2008 at 6:46 pm
One person can be a whole flock.
 
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