Old Maps
Reality those waves defy,
asleep you can finally fly;
Sea is heated by a cold sky
sweet lullaby, sweet lullaby;
Feathers decorating whitecaps
the fence holding you in snaps;
No need to hold onto old maps
bridges collapse, bridges collapse.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
