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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by gabemay on April 14, 2010


As I am weaving my cocoon, my wings are thus formed, no longer am I a child
The struggle so hard, yearning for relief, but knowing that I won’t
So I struggle in my tight cocoon, waiting yet for the time to come
The time is near, for my departure, into the sky of independence
My wings re-forming, to carry me, across the landscape of the world
A withered branch is from where I hang: the tree from which I drank
It too is yearning, for my departure, for my time to yet arrive
Long have I drank from its leaves, and now it is ready to grow
To grow and blossom and spring forth in isolation
So I struggle in my tight cocoon, yearning for the day of flight
Yearning for relief, but if that happens…I know I won’t

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