sourceA Poem by Emily BYou wonder where my power comes from and shine silver bullets to silence siren songs that spring from somewhere. You look for trap doors and hidden switches, {dissecting me piece by piece} to find the melodies you still swear you can't hear. Your logic can't explain wingless flight or answers like sweet pups that come when called. And so I face the inquisition, dodging pitchforks and fire for sins you are kind enough to imagine for me. One day, if you look close, you may find that my voice is all that ever wanders. I am anchored fast to this good earth but one day my wings will grow again. © 2009 Emily BFeatured Review
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Added on July 16, 2009Last Updated on August 10, 2009 Previous Versions Author |