Icarus*

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
About someone in my life who is making unwise decisions right now. It was an English assignment. It's supposed to be "Icarus" without the * after

Submitted: April 19, 2014

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Submitted: April 19, 2014

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You are flying much too close to the sun,

Unaware that your wax wings will melt soon.

Now you're smiling, as if your flight is done.

You're relieved, though you're nowhere near the moon.

Ignorance is bliss until the wax drips.

One by one the feathers burn: cremated.

Stealthily, the wing straps come off in strips

And as they fall, I hope this isn't fated.

Towards the earth, you tumble and plummet,

Eyes open wide as you accelerate.

Making noise, you splash into the planet.

You make your grave while my heart is weight.

 

Return to Earth before your wax runs.

Hurry, hurry. Fly away from your suns.


© Copyright 2019 Diana Rose. All rights reserved.

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