Mine
Bird of prey
who's circling
rhythm
darkly bends.
Above roads; enmeshed
that burn through
autumnal sprouts.
Corrupted
wishes
spear time
with grief tipped arrows.
Worn roses
silently bleed their color
until all is
threadbare.
Continue the feathers
to fall from up above
breezily down
past the earth, le monde, the earth.
Title Quote: Emancipated Minor, Ani DiFranco
