Baby Bird

Baby Bird

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación lun, abr 6, 2015
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Poesía
This morning, I was walking back from class. I checked my phone for messages from my friend, and after I put my phone away, I noticed a dead bird. I was horrified. He was a little baby who just wanted to fly. He didn't even have feathers yet. I wrote this for him. Rest in peace, little baby bird. You are beautiful.
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a collection of poems about my sixth grade year. no identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Love. Loss. Life. These are the three things that have been thrown at me this past year as I experienced my first year in middle school and beyond. I knew I was in for something...but I never knew my life-and my friends' lives-would change so dramatically... for better or worse.

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