Paper Crane

The Paper Crane

 

She folded herself into a paper crane,

and became,

graceful and constructed,

the artificial beauty unobstructed,

by emotion or feeling,

she was the epitome of poise,

and elegance was kneeling,

before her,

for she,

had been refined to fit the frame,

polished and cleansed,

made to shine without shame,

But as the years passed in silent pain,

and time unwound the tightest knots,

And tiny voices turned to blame,

the paper crane that couldn’t fly,

she flapped her wings,

she suppressed a cry,

her wings did rip,

but she did fly.

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