My heart is the robin's egg that fell from it's nest.
Delicate, cracked,
the prettiest shade of blue
Not pulled away by the gasp of the wind,
Not scooted out by an unforgiving orange feline
My heart tried to fly before it's robin had hatched.
Even dreams(ers) have their limitations
Emerging from the blue shell the creature is wounded
very much alive,
very much curious,
newly cautious.
Wings unfolded but yet to soar.
Perhaps one day the wind will guide.
Perhaps one day the dreams will be suited
Perhaps one day I'll fly
but first I will heal
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
My heart is the robin's egg that fell from it's nest.
Delicate, cracked,
the prettiest shade of blue
Not pulled away by the gasp of the wind,
Not scooted out by an unforgiving orange feline
My heart tried to fly before it's robin had hatched.
Even dreams(ers) have their limitations
Emerging from the blue shell the creature is wounded
very much alive,
very much curious,
newly cautious.
Wings unfolded but yet to soar.
Perhaps one day the wind will guide.
Perhaps one day the dreams will be suited
Perhaps one day I'll fly
but first I will heal