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The Woeful Gone

When the love of my life

Flies away on the wings of a kite

With silver gloss and shimmering lights

Into the sunset, and out of sight

When they disappear beyond the horizon

And fly far away – into the sun

To a new life I don’t know, and will never know again

To a life without me, now begun

My wings are not yet grown

I’m stuck – here on the ground

Where the rain continues falling

Without a single sound

And I watch my love fly away

With the sun in their hair

Dreams in their eyes

While my own heart lay bare

Broken

Shattered on the ground.

 

 

Something a little depressing, perhaps? Maybe. I was just trying something different, and I rather like the outcome. A little mysterious, a little poetic, maybe artistic? Yeah, nice try anyway, Michelle. It seems, after another read, like something the english teachers would pick apart until they believe they know exactly what they are talking about, when the truth is, sometimes what comes onto paper is not something at all to analyze. It is something to enjoy, to try to identify with. It’s not about knowing what the author was exactly thinking, or what the author exactly felt. It’s about what the reader feels, what the reader interprets it to be. And that is all that matters to me.

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About Michelle

I read, write, sing, hunt rabid giraffes, play volleyball, and play guitar. I love my big Alberta skies, wheat fields, and camping trips in the summer. I love to travel. I'm secretly a nerd. (Read as, I watch musicals, read Harry Potter too often, and can quote most of the movies I watch.) I love to be out in the country, riding quads and bikes, and just getting away from the city. I love the friends that I have and I try to be as loyal as I can. I've been writing since I was little, and I love to do so. It's a passion of mine that I hold close to my heart, and I love to use it to express the way I feel, or freeze a moment, or a feeling, in the time that it occurred. I also lied about giraffe hunting. I usually only hunt mosquitoes.

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