Under a robins wing

A dark Edgar Allen Poe inspired poem

Call to me from under such a wing

You blow my hair about my face as I sit

A paper floats away as you grab it

To late I notice it was mine

Such trickery was born from a beautiful thing

Jumping from a nest under a robins wing

The flow of lines on paper

Comes out a picture to dark for eyes

The feel of a whisper on your trembling arm

A simple leaf on this passionate force

Invisible yet prominant in force

Call not to me from the robins wing

For if wording calls stronger than force

Then words it shall take and transform

It shall bend you into form

Or hardly even stir a single emotion

Such a powerful thing that may be born

Only under a wing of a robin

Author's Note

No I have no idea what the hell i just wrote. Sounds cool though. I do have to point out that I'm twelve, so alot of my stuff is random and short, I have zero attention span and focus when it comes to this stuff.