The bluebird, it was pure and proud
Not one scent of dismay
But suddenly, her cry is loud
He took her home away
That's where she loved and grew the most
That's where she ran from rain
But now depressions like a ghost
It's haunting her in vain
But then, she realized, should one thing
Let her lie down and die?
She'll stop her tears and she will sing
And higher will she fly.
A contest entry
- Broken Angel by Maili Knephthan.
900 points, ended July 15, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
how is this?????
Comments
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Very original take upon the prompt. I enjoyed this very much Thank you for entering and thank you for sharing this. I like the emotion using the bluebird it was well done good luck in my contest
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