My Little Bird

If I have learned anything by being alive it has not come from something that I have done right. While memories can break you they can also save you; the make up will wash off but the scars are still there. Beaten black or blue there is nothing left to do when mistakes were never really mistakes at all..Just a bird with a broken wing my eyes are set on you with so much potential to sing; flying is not all you were born to do. So paint my body the colors of the moon, I’ll shine in the dark and shine for you.

This entry was published on September 7, 2012 at 2:57 am. It’s filed under Poems and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.


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