If it isn’t mine
I am not taking it
Even when they want me to
I am not
Told me to ‘fit in’
And tried to make me, what?
Something less in the face of
I am not
Late bloomers, rise up
Bw happy to fly now
You aren’t alone!
I am not
My burnt sienna wings are on fire
My phoenix on some new life
Keep your limitations
I am not
To honor National Poetry Month, here is a poem that caught my eye in Jr. High (it was called that back then). It was a provocative, scary, and great poem telling a story at the same time. Click the image below to read The Demon of the Gibbet by Fitz-James O’Brien.
