The ThingA Poem by Emmy
Is it the thing with feathers
or does it change with the weather? Can it be lost, can it be found or does it know no bounds? We're taught it in school where in an abundance it pools. We recognize it in the kids but all the news does is forbid. I hear it's all we have but by days end it's halved. I try to conceive it's real but struggle to grasp the full ideal.
© 2018 Emmy |
Stats
135 Views
Added on November 13, 2016 Last Updated on February 17, 2018 AuthorEmmyNew York, NYAboutI'm 19. My poems aren't very long. I write sporadically. Also I often leave reviews when I'm drunk, my apologies for any spelling/grammar errors. more..Writing
|