Many wavering suns
drifted overhead
as she battled
against the grey.
Finally, through
the tumult a ray
of light wraps
around her
fatigued wrist
and somehow
pulls her through
the surrounding
grey storm.
Her heartbeat slows
as she looks around
blinded by
the sudden light.
Her wings twitch
at her side,
unused to the calm.
Everything is bright
and still
and shiny
except for her.
She is small
and disheveled
and grey.
She is confused.
Should she be
grateful
to the sun?
She isn't happy,
she instead
finds herself
longing
for the grey.
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Poetry
Poetrypoetry & thoughts there are some things I just can't say out loud ⭐️💫 -started 4/10/16- I wanted so bad to be the small bird that made your eyes change from grey to green. I still do, I always will because now I'm realizing that I just want to be...
