Remnants

I am a small pile of feathers

As the wind of harsher weathers

Blows forth and Into nothing I disperse

I came from birds who once flew high

Just me and bones left when they die

And now I am a scattered mess

The remnants of a precious life, no less.

Author: halfthegirlblog

Poet, storyteller, songwriter, photographer, artist, lonely dreamer, despairing believer in God. I am trying to rebuild my life after some bad times and mental health issues.

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