Depressed Poems or whatever it might be

5

There is a buzz.
Pure bliss so far out of reach.
I once grasped it on my own.
A feeling filled with smiles and excitement.
Happiness.

I once grasped it on my own. But that was in a time I don't remember. Where my ten friendships flourished like flowers in spring.

This place is not out of reach. I just need my stepping stone. My wings to make me reach the sky. I need my boost. They make me feel light, they make me move, they make me fly and they make me so so euphoric.
That's when I know I reached where I want to be.

But they only last so long. You soar through the clouds and it feels endless. An eternity in a moment. But if you fly too high you'll burn your wings. They turn to ash.

You fall.