What else should I do?
Travel, maybe. Sit next to a waterfall.
Words are falling. I’m trying
To catch the mist, the water
Bursting with colors. Reflecting
On what it means, not to dwell on regrets.
Like birds that live in cages.
They don’t fly away.
This poem makes me worry a little bit about your well-being.
LikeLike
Hello GretcheJoanna,Thank you for your concern. Please remember that the I in the poem maybe different from the poet. Best regards, Edgar
LikeLiked by 1 person