I am the moth in the jar
Hammering hard against glass
As it warms in the sunrise and
Bakes in the heat
On my fragile dry leaf
Of unfortunate soul
Ever flipping itself
To get out
And to breathe.

Where the cruel sun beats down
On my wings turning vapid
Over dryness insipid
That cracks ancient velvet
That once had held wisdom
Potentially vibrant in
Dust-devil murmurs
That whisper the secrets
We all knew and know now,
I don't belong here.

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