come little bird
right to my bed
sleep in a hope
till you rest
fly for the sun
and meet on the moon
oh sweet little bird
we'll meet again soon
safe in a moment
away in a second
gone for a month
alive in the present
coo to the light
of a million fireflies
till sleep hold you still
oh what a sweet demise
come round my bends
and sleep on the floor
something so cautious
in a fabricated hell
tracks in the snow
lead to a high
pitiful shrieks
in the gloom covered sky
what met in the march
fell dead in the morning
and what reeks on me
oh my glory
sweet little bird
calm you're my moon
oh little life
you will fly away too soon
YOU ARE READING
if not human
Poetrythe anthology of emotion, the passing of life, the epilogue of pure, unfiltered regret this is "if not human" poems, prose and stories from the dark
