Poem -
the cradle
and though it were the cradle
that gifted near all my breath
it also were the brutal hand
that spiralled me toward that
death
which spied me from the very
first
i fell free from that cruel place
while all the while it crooned and
mocked
the tiny speck i was in space
M ~
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Comments
wonderful
You are very kind Greg thankyou x
This is deep! Born to die, basically, all of us.
Yep...do we though...die....hmmmn.....thanks Tina xx