Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2011
Fly
My head is in the clouds
Between the quiets and the louds
It would be a fatal fall
Like that concerns you at all
I'll  keep holding onto a star
As you burn out your last cigar
Suspended between the ground and sky
I can't help that I was born to fly
Written by
Ritamae Steger
Please log in to view and add comments on poems