Day #1
Bubbles make us feel abandoned
Winds that hold false promises
Stir the weeds and soap dust
That cling like magic to every twig.
Oh, how lucky are the few
That ride the changing tides
Into the deep blue sky.
Will we ever see God?
We wait for our turn
To blow away in a rainbow orb.
Holding hands clasped 'round our secrets
We smile through our melancholy
And nod in agreement as they tell us to grow up.
We can be but children in a sunflower grove
And they can be the crows that pop the free spirits.
Someday we will be
The ones that got away.
This should be a fun month You can critique, just keep in mind that these are for a NaWriMo thing, and therefore not at all finished.
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