by Colleen Ely

Created on: May 02, 2008

Twisted, evil
pacing, running
in this dream
too close to life.
Barely breathing
grasping, screaming;
cut to bleed
without the knife

Leaves are falling,
ghosts are calling;
frantically dig into the dirt.
Eyes are glistening,
ears are listening;
never let them feel your hurt.

Capture flame within a jar,
set aside, and watch it turn.
A butterfly can flap to freedom
but its wings will also burn.

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