Metamorphic

I’ll change again later on in the day. When the sun it rests its head away. Before I was the better part of me. Ashamed I am of what is not seen. Really I must ask of myself for tales of what I do to so I might sleep well. Chrysalis captures warmth filled drug…

Salting The Earth

A bird sat on my shoulder to sing a song; none bolder. I listened to tales of where flew sparrows; flying on air. Pass by I’m not quite innocent; I reach deep for some semblance. Walls ten feet I look to scale. Uncouth ways of mine do fail. I’ll shout for it to declare mine;…