Titles are Overrated

Part 181

You want something more.

Birds fly by,

and you wish you could go with them.

But your burdens are far too heavy

for your wings to carry.

Bruises cover your skin

and blood stains your hand -

fresh and never washing away.

You reach for the blue sky,

but oh,

it isn't meant to be red.

It isn't meant for you.

Even the wind doesn't blow your way.

You can hear it whisper,

saying -

what have you done to yourself? 

a sky of change