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Jan 2018
If you ask me
It's almost corrupt how we hear stories and dream of places in the sky that we cannot reach because our wings are clipped and we cannot fly
These perfect places mock us, they leave us questioning our worth
I've jumped and tried to reach them, only to fall back to the dirt
I want to find a haven, I want shelter from this rain
But I'm nothing but a frail and fragile bird hitting window panes
I lie around and, with open arms, welcome my fate because I'll be a skeleton before I get to heaven if I keep moving at this rate
They're watching as I fly, only to crash back on the ground
And I've hoped for so much more than this, but all my thoughts are bound
I accept I'm being hunted, but I don't ******* care
I accept that I am dying, but I guess it's only fair
I beat these wings on shattered things that scar and rip apart my skin
I shield my eyes but still go blind from all these wrongs I try to hide
I build my foundations on rotting nations that will soon decay and put my hope in tattered ropes I wear as necklaces each day
I wail and shriek and cry when I can't hear that still small voice
But am I really truly listening when I keep drowning out the noise?

I am nothing but a sparrow, but I can't be worth more than they
When I cry and pull my hair whenever I receive another day

I'm a bird in it's flitting
Please unbend me
Natalie
Written by
Natalie  F
(F)   
205
   Autumn
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