Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 13
it is not greed to want the sky when you were born with wings.
it is not rebellion to refuse the chains that were never yours to wear.
to be anything less than what i am meant to become
would be a slow kind of dying
the kind you don’t notice until you wake one day
and find your name has been forgotten
even by your own reflection.
Written by
ismail  22/M
(22/M)   
67
   girlinflames
Please log in to view and add comments on poems