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The Birds

We are family

Flock and fairly

To be so weary

Wearily reefing

Cutting the wind

Lights be dimmed

Arranged in our seating

Did I lose you in our organization

Was it the impulsive me with imagination

That you thought so highly of and sought after

While I aimlessly fought for your smiles and laughter

Does it scare you now that I will most probably never return

And that the flames of our love and kisses of lust, will never once more burn

Β© The Sad Owl

Categories: poetry Prose

Tagged as:

The Sad Owl

I'm just here. Until I'm not.

1 reply

  1. There is a fragrance of lost love in your poems. Its simply too good . pain is not so good to deal but it’s greatest inspiration to create beautiful art😊
    Hoping to read more. πŸ‘ŒπŸ‘πŸ‘

    Like

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