Insignificant

by Olivia Chohan '20


On May 22nd you grew two feathery wings.

We were clueless, far away, safe, dry.

There were seeds of hope but they were never planted,

because they were shadowed by a tree of worry.

Instead of black, I stood in pink.

Some days I want to bury myself in sand,

Or to climb a tree and never come down.

All man has is hand and foot;

a heart of granite, tears like the Ganges.

We are small.

What gets burnt does not grow back.


15 views

Recent Posts

See All

Sunsets and Dialects

by Joshua Cable '22 The social outcome is obscure With that the teachers have endured The exotic sunset of our days Have written themselves to their graves Oh I fancy fabric of old With that I grew sl

The Road

by Sea '21 I am on a long and narrow road I walk day and night I do not know what state I am in I walk day and night The moment I came into the world I walked at the same time At an inn with two doors

Unstoppable Force

by Nick Hansen '20 The whistling train comes around every night, a reminder of all things haunting my mind. It’s rumble, increasing with violent approach, not stopping for anything in its god-forsaken

 CONTACT 

  • Black Instagram Icon
  • Black Twitter Icon
email-icon-png-download-icons-logos-emoj

© 2019-2020 BARE Literary Arts Magazine.