Fly Poem by Lamerre Lucie
Fly
Fly, fly, fly
Little bird,
Good spirit,
Shiny imp;
Do not look back,
The road's ahead,
All your winnings
Will soon be ours.
No need to hit,
No need to shout,
We will catch you,
For your own good.
But, wait again,
What does it do?
It's flying high,
Far, far from us.
It understood;
Masks are falling:
'For your own good'
Is seen as lie.
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: freedom,power
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4/24/2024 5:12:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
We will catch it one day, dear brother. Well written. Keep writing.