All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Orange MAG
December 19, 2011
Maybe New York is a city of birds.
Feathers flying from their ears
and cloaking them, those birds who strut.
But my bones are shut up in this body,
as if the stripes on my shirt were jail bars.
You have graffiti sticking to your back
like sweat, and yet
that ink serves as wings. Still,
you've been so hungry that you nibbled my skin
like a pigeon in Central Park that neared me.
You don't know about that pigeon,
that's a memory all my own
that reminds me of my independence from you.
But, god, you have dead eyes.
© Grace B., Colchester, VT
Similar Articles
Previous Next
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
