Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2021
the dove
labored by his own beak;
the last breathed breath

lungs are filled
with the salt of the sea
**** to the shackled, the non-free
do you care, or is it a play
to see what you can get
breathe in
what's left
of the clean we polluted
divinity diluted
of air cleared, not yet
Written by
Man  24
(24)   
667
     Rose, ---, Imran Islam and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems