Scratching it's way out.
Your beauty is your charm.
One finger to touch,
Hits the snooze for the alarm.
Pushing through a capsule,
A seed that wants the sky.
I see it both ways, now.
And underground will always
Be our hiding place.
The heat on the surface
Is the reminder of the sun.
2 comments:
very nice.im really liking the thought imagery of the last bunch of poems especially :)
Thank you lovely!
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