He tried to hold on
To that thin strip of hope
That held him aloft
That kept him afloat
But it was no use
Because now he's afraid
And he starts to fall
He has lost his way
He is a flightless bird
Can you hear him calling?
He is so cold and numb
As he keeps falling
The demons, they taunt
And the angels despair
As the light fades
He's not sure if he cares
The ground is inviting
To his tired, worn wings
He's flightless because
He forgot how to sing
But then he remembers
The things that he loved
And all of those things
Were up high above
And here he remembers
Why it is that he sings
It's not for the world
It's not for nothing
We sing because we can't
Stay stuck on the ground
The sky is too big
To not fly around
And wings are not meant
for falling and dying
Wings are meant
Only for flying
And to fear is to die
A sad lonely death
Having done nothing
Until your last breath
So he chooses to soar
And he chooses to fly
Because he will just lose
If he chooses to die
His life belongs to him
And to him alone
So he will write his story
He'll find his own home
It's not that he's fearless
He's just being brave
You have to go through night
To get to the day
YOU ARE READING
Poems (collection 2.0)
Poesía"Thoughtful, often sad, and angry poems. It's an outlet. A way to be heard. Not genius; only jumbled messes of the multitude of my thoughts fighting their way out of my brain. There's so much I want to say, but not enough time to say it. Here are my...
