I was a chick
A day old chick
Knowing not one right
I was white
Positioned to be made a colour, bright
She, the mother hen
Groomed me till I was led to the den
She was my passion
That which caused me crop impaction
She was my start
She made me, a great art
Then pulled me apart
Though not ominous
She is poisonous.
Wandella
19/04/2020
YOU ARE READING
Heart Shots
PoetryPrepare to ride with me through thick and thin. This is a collection of different pieces, a heart piece per time hence it's simply my heart shot. We'll ride through love and grief, joy and bitterness, excitement and depression, admiration and hate...
