A loss of wings;
Slow,
Torturous,
Intimate.
The fall to the mundane realm,
filthy.
The streets are polluted,
the air, thick.
A broken angel cries,
and dreams of
flight.
YOU ARE READING
A Toast, to Us
PoetryThis, is a toast to us. For all of us who have been beaten into the ground, and refused to stay down. We are powerful. ---------------------------- Poems for those who have suffered for far too long.
