Kite
I am a kite,
My yellow heart trapped in the confines of
Two short poles.
My white ribbons spread around me like
Harsh streetlight rays
(In the mornings I conveniently dim to nothing)
I sway tamely to the rhythm of the breeze
I am at the wrong party.
I am stretched
My string spread out straight
A roman
Dead end road.
And I am wrapped around my father’s fingers
Which are whitening at the tips
He is scared.
Will I plummet
Or will I fly?
Copyright © Gracie Bawden | Year Posted 2012
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