strings

black balloon rising
little girl, you let go too soon
and i catch on to your string in the hope that you
will take me away from this place

and i am afraid beneath this
wide sky as i watch you
rise

there is an art to it
a certain rush that is perfected
over time
but you have refused to stay
so i wither and fade

there is no getting out of
this place

0 comments:

Post a Comment