Cork Board


can fly like butterflies

pinned down

to my cork board wall,

remain hung up

on sadness until faces

frown for weeks, months;

only time can tell

you what to feel, remind minds

that freedom is always

bursting forth with the sun,

bringing energy to ignite

butterflies once more,

despite carcass wings.

Who wants to remain wall art,

suffocated beasts in a world

of honey-suckers,

people smiling like flowers–

all awaiting the cork board.

February 12, 2014


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