Once sprightly bright, not hunched, but tall
Like a decommissioned kite, they fall
They twirl and twindle, who knows how they'll land
Who cares? They are but ground on which to stand
Their brown cloth crumbles round their cage
Now are naught, but stuff that leads to rage.
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC
Once sprightly bright, not hunched, but tall
Like a decommissioned kite, they fall
They twirl and twindle, who knows how they'll land
Who cares? They are but ground on which to stand
Their brown cloth crumbles round their cage
Now are naught, but stuff that leads to rage.