The bird flies,
Soars,
Singing a song,
About freedom,
Fire burns,
Blazes,
Leaving a trail of misery,
And agony,
The bird,
The fire,
The man,
The woman,
Whose the fire?
Whose the bird?
Fire kills,
Birds survive.
The fire gets put out,
And the bird still flies.
Nothing is right in the small house,
Neighbor calls because of screams and shouts,
We watch fire,
Because of its beauty,
We play with fire knowing,
We are going to get hurt,
But it's beauty draws us in,
Then when you touch it,
You get burned,
The bird wants the freedom,
And the fire wants the power,
The bird is delicate,
While the fire rages.
The police show up and things get ugly,
Shots go off,
And screams are heard.
The fire consumes the house,
And cries are heard within,
The fire burns in hell,
And the dove goes to heavan.
YOU ARE READING
My poems
FantasiThis I just some of my poems. Don't not copy without my permission. I am serious. They are all about a heartbreak and cutting. I didn't copy any of this. I wrote all of this myself. Please do not stop at the first poem. I promise they get better tow...
