Michele

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 29, 2018

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Submitted: September 29, 2018

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The tree that strikes me down

Will be orange

Split with brown

Lit with red like blood

And in will flood

The leaves and buds

Of flowers well past their prime

Michele is now a name of mine

Above I hear him yell

And ask myself if this is hell

But the tree is still standing

Burning fire

I’m yearning for a face against the flame

What was her name?

Michele

Such power in the word

The tree is like a bell tower

Crashing echoes into birds

The world is blasted

The tree is blasted

And I have only lasted this long

Because I thought I heard her in a song

He tried to hum the tune

But soon he fell

And I was left to sing

Michele 


© Copyright 2018 Bridget Bill. All rights reserved.