Cloudy Bell Jar
Someone remind me it's a beautiful life;
even if it's the ground keeping you the right way up.
Trip yourself, pat down yourself, unwind yourself and brush off yourself.
I do it all like I've done for everyone else.
The bubble of loneliness always seems ready to pop
while I try to give it a happier name,
As in art, light and movement persist to never stay the same,
Watching summer fade out of my skin
and my eyes and the air I breath.
Still the ground's under me
and I'm under a huge cloudy bell jar.
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Comments about this poem (Cloudy Bell Jar by Delilah Miller )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
(3 June 1926 – 5 April 1997)
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