[Poetry] Flying things

Flying things

A source of fear

they run away,

children scared

of me, they say.

But I am nice

and I am kind,

or is it just

that they are blind?

They don't know

they don't see

the beauty that's

inside of me.

Deep in the forest

all alone,

I sit and stay

on this cold stone.

I'll spread my wings

and fly away,

beauty or beast

for another day.

Hannah Donohue 2020