I flittered like a frozen butterfly in a silver artic haze.
My wings wilting erroneously from a chill since unbridled.
I waited in my wonderland of crystal blue ice.
But my freedom wass contingent upon surrealistic designs.
A Martyr in my mind ceases her egocentric complaining.
I have floated on a morally inept Western Wind.
But flames from a lust so potent seared me into unbridled action.
I leapt with the joy of supplication and the artic relased its prize.
A.J. McKinley's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Artic Cage by A.J. McKinley )
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- Sliding Into Old Shoes, Stacy L. Mar
- Like Fallen Gods, Stacy L. Mar
- All We Are, Stacy L. Mar
- To John, Roger A. Rose
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