I once took your indelible handwritten pathways—it's unbearable.
Now I'm bored navigating the stars
It'll bring me back to you. again.
Like a bird on a cage—
fabled, exagerated freedom
flying to his mind ironically.
Recollecting thoughts of
spreading such wide wings
along flocks after being
doleful to realize the chains
on its foot as exchange for food.
He was envied by the turtle
for flying the sky once.
And like the turtle,
he want to get away from
the reality.
So it became natural.
Because it is natural.
:
Poems are escape.
We continue to write them
until we leaked blood on our papers.
It's between fantasy and
freedom—they are not real.
But what if they are?
What would happen if we escaped?
who knows?
YOU ARE READING
TURTLES
PoesíaThis is a compilation of thoughts I have created and grown over my younger youth. A bucket full of randomized downfalls flowing with a young innocent and reckless love. Interpreting life as a fabled fantasy slowly forming paths of footprints in the...
