To be sheltered.
To escape from a horrifying routine.
Someone to run to.
When one is lucky...
They have more than one person to run to, they have a circle of safety.
She can go under their wings when the rain of depression falls.
The silent peace she gets under their protection after so many months of screams.
The judgmental eyes cannot see her when she is under them.
She isn't a shadow, she's like their kitten.
Each word sounding like nothing more than a mew.
Small and cute as they'd call her.
Three pairs of wings.
It's like having three extra band-aids, just in case.
They heal.
And as the sun sets...
She knows that with the help her close ones...
That one day the wings that were once torn from her...
Will grow and open to their potential again.
She silently thanks them.
For allowing her to stay under their wings for now.
YOU ARE READING
Evening Poems...
Historia CortaThis is my collection of poems. Writing these helps me relax and get my points and feelings on my story. I hope you guys like these poems that are sure to come. These poems will be posted onto this book when I'm not working on other books. Enjoy the...
