I'd count my lucky stars if I could fly
Wings my goal to see the world as it is
With or without them I would surely die
Even the Devil's wings I would take his
but if the Wings of Hell were to be mine
and a tragic fate that would surely be
And that would cause my wings to curl and pine
never to fly nor fall or heaven see
But were the wings of glory on my back
I would see the heavens and all the stars
but pitiful me with my wings of black
I turn my head and see all of my scars
I turn to see the stitches of my past
I turn to my future to fly at last
YOU ARE READING
poems
De Todopoems by me. Try not to judge too harshly some of these were made at 13-14 years old. The new-ish ones start at "scars inside" so, um... enjoy?