Life. In a nutshell
As soon as I was born
I started living
As soon as I started living
I started dying.
Life. In a nutshell.
As soon as I was born
I started living
As soon as I started living
I started dying.
Life. In a nutshell.
Life hanging by a thread
Cold and dark, am I dead?
This tiny, cramped space
Could it be my tomb?
Or have I been born again,
a return to the womb?
There feels like a weak spot
In the wall by my head
But I can’t move my arms
So I’ll use my teeth instead
To dig through the grey wall
And out into the light
Where I can unfold my coloured wings
Stretch, and take flight
© Christopher Farley, Chris Farley, 2012-2021. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Christopher Farley with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. All guest content remains the property of the appropriate author – any reproduction is strictly prohibited without their prior written approval.
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