I Can Compare
with crushed wings not intact.
I'm like a bird hitting glass,
flying high but can't get past.
I'm like a bee that leaves a sting,
protecting it's sweet flowers.
I'm like the rain mixing colors,
on discarded important letters.
I'm like the angry summer sun,
burning people is my fun.
I'm like the ground that they walk on,
wrapping weeds around their tongues.
I'm like the used up sole of shoes,
bruised from being used.
I'm like a secret story,
you have to find to uncover truth.
Public Collections Containing This Poem
Other Poems By This Author
-
Sarah Part 2
PoetSarah Gilley
-
Just Look Up To The Sky
PoetSarah Gilley
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