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Reborn
Crafted in His hands, I lay.
Droplets hit my home, I shifted.
I waited, I questioned, I hung.
I waited,
Milkweed brushed against my home.
Only black and white light shined in.
Light always seem black to me, I thought.
I questioned,
“Wait and see my plans for you,” I heard.
Wings twitched, cracked, severed, I broke.
Stained glass wings then became just glass, I thought.
I hung, but fell.
Colors were no longer black, but yellow, green, and orange too.
The warmth of the wind gently brought me to the ground.
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