Little Blue
Little Blue looks into the Apocalypse MirrorShe sees through she always knew a tragic error
Was waiting there hidden deep within a shell
She sees me, she sees you each looking for a way
Little Blue catches the dreams that fall from our eyes
Gathering them like a harvest
Sorting through the mild and bravest
Things we are, the things we do to live
Little Blue reflects, what we forgive
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Written on 2026-02-19 at 00:12
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