Clair Obscur

The Birth Of W - Poem by Clair Obscur

Thoughts are so complete!
Alone we are...
Small wings move fast.
A simple thought has got so many words,
Impossible to collect.
Up they go, down they come,
Those tiny little wings,
Invisible to the eye,
Almost unreachable...
Only a small piece of the subconsciousness can catch them,
And put they down on a piece of paper.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Poem Edited: Thursday, March 10, 2011

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