I asked to the bog cotton,
"Isn't your life so free?
You're not tramelled by anything,
You're all unshackled. Don't you agree?"
It replied,
"Oh! Poor. You're mistaken,
My life isn't free
I'm not bound by anything
But by the wind, that ensnares me."
A/N
In the multimedia section is my little sister blowing the bog cotton in wind.
YOU ARE READING
Scribbles
PuisiI was terrestrial You belonged to the ocean Somewhere along the shoreline We got lost. #16 in Nepal Cover by myself.
