A poem #16 – From beneath my wing

I found you again,
unknowingly beneath my wing,
so I pushed you out on your own,
to show that you could sing.
But you just stood there,
on your weak legs crumbling,
your substance
blowing away on the wind.
And once again I find myself sweeping up
little pieces of you.
Although I search in every corner,
I never find them all.

JP Collins

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