Open Poetry #12 |
To be Bound |
Disgruntled Junior Member
since 2001-03-01
Posts 13 |
A bird without wings, Born of the sky, Yet bound to the ground, Searching for his freedom, Casting about for forgotten dreams, Lost hopes, In a world of chaotic thunder, Blinded by the pelting rain, Wandering in a daze, Waiting for that moment, When the rain will clear, A world reborn, The bird has found his freedom, The angel has found his wings, The poet has found his pen. [This message has been edited by Disgruntled (edited 03-19-2001).] |
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© Copyright 2001 Disgruntled - All Rights Reserved | |||
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ah...this is not disgruntling at all...but well said! |
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Meadowmuse Member Elite
since 1999-12-27
Posts 3263 |
Yes, the poet's pen ~ the wings bear a sweet and certain measure of freedom, to be sure. This is grand. Thanks for it. Claire Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?......Henry David Thoreau |
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