When life gives you lemons… kick its bitchy ass. Inspired by a crappy day, with love from the Bad Poets’ Society.


Black specks against grey branches,

Their orange-banded wings like wound or warning

Against the tangled limbs of the skeleton trees

Rising in silent resistance

Like sleeping princess’ thorny copse.

Indistinguishable, bird from tree,

In the day’s everlasting twilight

Nothing but snow-choked lawn in front

And frozen field beyond.

I can feel myself petrifying

At the sight of Medusa’s wooden curls

Nothing auspicious in this place –

Winter’s endless gloaming


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