Falling On Fire
And that’s just it,
I exist in a world where my favorite flower
Is considered a weed
Coffee is preferred black,
And I am the sugar
Where expectations are met,
And I am coloring outside the lines
A place where too much thinking is a disease
Where the moon controls the waves,
And I’m a sail boat against the tide
Where a shooting star means “make a wish,”
And I am just falling on fire
3 thoughts on "Falling On Fire"
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I love how you communicate through your comparisons that though you may be different, it is a difference you cannot deny. No more than a sail boat can deny the power of the moon or that humans can completely eradicate a weed.
What’s your favorite flowering weed? Mine would have to be the Chicory.
“My favorite flower is considered a weed” sets the tone for this poem very well.
Brilliant!
Fav lines:
my favorite flower/Is considered a weed
A place where too much thinking is a disease