Thursday, June 16, 2016

The Flight Home

I struck gold there, 
thought I'd grow old there, 
thought I had every
-thing I'd need. 
I made plans there,
shook a few hands there,
started journey: both shoes 
on my feet.
I got loved there,
mitten and gloved there,
my hands were destined 
to be warm.
I fell hard there,
Glasses in shards there,  
Now I just wait to 
be reborn. 

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