Adopted Mother of MIne

Sun, 03/26/2017 - 14:21 -- Mateos

Her tired wings swayed into the blue,

Where the feathers wither away

As their presences serves to remind

All her tears and regrets she had made.

My devotion spreads wide like an open field

While she contininously soars high

To the clouds of prosperity.

 

One more look she glances down,

Casting the final innocence into to the drain

From the new feeling she craved.

Instantly, the air strips apart her soul and her people

That are clasped inbetween

The once secured grip of her old talons.

Never much anger had consumed one's heart

At the sight to lose everything.

What is gone can only remain,

The part of history that will never seem real.

 

 

This poem is about: 
My country

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741