I can feel it;
the distinct slap of air
rustling my feathers
and teasing my glide.
I can feel the freedom surge through my veins
as I am taking flight.
I flap my wings harder
and suddenly I can see the world,
I can see the light.
I can breathe
puffs of air
little clouds in themselves
that taste like freedom.
I,
the trapped bird
the flower trapped between the two pages of your art book
the truth trapped behind the endless amounts of lies
Am finally free.
YOU ARE READING
Starry night skies (completed)
PoetryUnder the canopy of a thousand stars, she found that her hands sang the words of her tender heart, the notes captured perfectly in pages that were stained a deep brown. cocooned in the embrace of a hundred constellations, ...
