Vicky Shi (9) | STAFF REPORTER
A bloodstained sunset glory,
A happy-ending story,
A pale white sky with a wispy cloud,
A seed in the thickening crowd.
A whistle in the wind,
A droplet in the lake,
A song that speaks tales
Of truth to no avail.
A verse in a lyric,
A bird that sings
To those who would hear
With a raspy tone and a cruel tear
So birds would sing:
“A twisted mind
Within a twisted heart
Knows which shackles bound the chains,
And which do not”
A heart of stone,
Bare and cold,
Would you still be so bold?
