Birds fly high
So do my hopes
But I don't have wings
So I fly with ropes
Higher and higher
I climb and rise
Washing at the sun
And the cloud-filled skies
YOU ARE READING
Leftovers
PoetryLeftovers Leftovers of me Every story has a piece A piece of my heart
lemme _fly_
Birds fly high
So do my hopes
But I don't have wings
So I fly with ropes
Higher and higher
I climb and rise
Washing at the sun
And the cloud-filled skies
