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Dec 2021
I watch from tree tops
at the forrest below
I have seen everything grow
from the hare to the fox

Now a winter creeps in
A lake begins to freeze
The cold seems to ***** at skin
I worry my flowers will never be seen

So I flutter and squawk
Wishing for someone to gawk
Is it too late to be known?
Someone stop

I don't want to be alone
No kids to give my garden
To show what is behind that stone
The cold is sharpened

My wings no longer move
My frozen flowers
Written by
Bugs Spencer  18/Gender Fluid/Tennessee
(18/Gender Fluid/Tennessee)   
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