Fragile
they saw her and
called her fragile
so scared she was
of falling
they thought
why, she must be so
breakable
but they didn't realize
one thing:
she slipped while holding
an egg in her palm
a delicate
little thing
and she never did
catch herself
for herself
rather for
the gem she always held
cupped in her hands
YOU ARE READING
Free Bird
PoetryThis book is a journey: my journey, to learn my flight. I write this as someone who is searching for freedom, and who is looking to find it in whatever journey full of discoveries these poems take me on. I know I have always had wings. Now, it is...
