...the birds don't know whether they're coming or going.
since there's been a rip in the sky, the ice has fallen mercilessly, teasing us by floating up and out of reach and laughing as it disappears, down into the soggy ground.
every third day the sun comes out and cries, taunting us with its blissful rays, but vanishes behind the clouds, whose linings glow anything but silver.
the sky is falling, and the birds are just flying in circles.
north is frozen, and the south is growing cold.
they don't know whether they're coming or going.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Pretty Damn good
Ugh I know exactly how you feel! Great poem. I <3 you!
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