Drowning Poem by Timothy Faboade
Drowning
Like a little fair bird
Caught in lime twigs
Where its mother can
Only wait and watch,
Below the level of the
Bottomless, deep sea,
I, a non-aquatic, be.
As the little one struggles
To escape and fly away,
The more it's entangled.
As I, a poor terrestrial,
Strive to shark the deep,
Deeper and deeper I sink.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: lament
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5/4/2024 1:33:33 AM # 1.0.0.1119
