This poem was posted yesterday under a new account that I created for myself as I was not able to log in . Now life has taken a full circle again that my old account is normal and the new one is defunct.... Anyways enjoy this poem
What are you looking at ?
The clipped wings
aren't mine .
The kites that fly high
belong to me .
The worn out tools
not mine !
The resilient spirit
finds a path in my veins.
I don't have a choice
besides my karma.
My metaphors
defy gravity all the time.
I am a poet ...
Oooh lalala! And how I enjoy it too! What a riot of a piece too cleverly and beautifully expressed, with hints of intrigue (to little me) and excellent imagery. I like it right well.