Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2021
cocoon
it is but my fantasy,
asleep in a chrysalis of surrounding dark
aware of the day i become moth,
never to raise a silver moon wing-
dead as a flightless lark.
B
Written by
B  21/F/TX
(21/F/TX)   
97
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems