at times I look back
things I should have done
things I would have done
if only I had known
I would have returned those words of betrayal
those calls of hate
and simply flown out the window
with the night upon my back
the crescent moon barely visible tucked away behind the skylights
and
I would grow wings
not a dragon’s or a fairy’s
but something of my own desire
of my own complexion
I would be free
but would I?
with memories trapped within me
with the knowledge that the past could have been changed
life is but a prison either way
there comes a time though when things must cease to be
the sun must stop shining
the musician must stop playing
the rain must stop falling
and the poet
the poet’s words must stop flowing
so sadness must end
happiness will soon shine through
maybe a small call of hope will be answered
along the way
