crheac

Am I the ocean in my eyes, readying to flood?

Or am I shattered glass that my eyes are pieces of?

Label stamped in my DNA says

"Experiment that failed"

Am I just faulty evolution

One of a faulty kind?

If I am this and nothing more,

a question must be asked;

Why can I weave webs with words

And make poetry my craft?

If I can use a sound to grow a song out of my throat,

then I must be more than

"what the doctor wrote"

Like a snowflake, I am nature's tiny glass.

Layers that you'll never even see or understand.

Intricacies that are something wonderful to see.

Just because I am delicate like a snowflake,

You must be warned,

I'll fall in as a snowflake,

but I'll come back as a storm.