The bluebird strayed
In the Indian sky
Its wings high
We hit
Our head
Wish for dreams
A little bit
Of sleep
We are not
From this place
We are stuck
In the red room
Praying for a way out
A place
Free from nightmares
We want to sing and dance
Wallow in the water
All we can smell
Is fear
And powder
Tomorrow will be different
She whispers
For once
I believe her.
The wonderful thing about mornings is you get to start a brand new day. I believe Alice, too. She is wise.
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