Wings on the wind

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    Wings on the wind

     May broken butterfly wings fly
    across the air an sky
    as the brush across my cheek
    when you walk by.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    everdark’s Poems (14)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    You walked away 0 10/26/2010
    my day 0 10/26/2010
    My library 0 01/08/2010
    Shadow's kiss 0 10/08/2009
    your words 0 10/08/2009
    Wings on the wind 0 10/08/2009
    My World 0 09/30/2009
    Briliant Soul 0 09/30/2009
    Trapped from Freedom 0 09/26/2009
    She of Misery 0 09/25/2009
    My Age an Ode to the Troubled World 0 09/24/2009
    Acid Tears 0 09/24/2009
    Icey Endings 0 09/24/2009
    now or never 0 09/24/2009
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