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aisling-2Poems
I see birds sitting on chimneys And telephone wires And rooftops. I wonder what it feels like to be up so high Without an ounce of fear. To be so close to everything beautiful that gets caught in the air The stars and the moon and the sun And have complete freedom Peace I want to borrow the raven's wings The scarlet feathers from the robin To disguise myself To escape to the sky for a weekend. I have always been terrified of birds But I'm beginning to wonder why exactly that is. Envy is the only conclusion I can come to. I will never be that close to the stars until I become one I will never fly through the clouds without being encased in a metal casket. I want to fly with the birds. They will lend me their feathers so I don't get cold They will sit in their nests Watching me Like proud parents. They will hope I never return. The loss of their feathers is temporary They will grow back, and when they do Maybe the birds will think of me Maybe they will continue to donate their wings to the landlocked girls with wanderlust.
0
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
The Clouds Are Not Cotton Candy
I see birds sitting on chimneys And telephone wires And rooftops. I wonder what it feels like to be up so high Without an ounce of fear. To be so close to everything beautiful that gets caught in the air The stars and the moon and the sun And have complete freedom Peace I want to borrow the raven's wings The scarlet feathers from the robin To disguise myself To escape to the sky for a weekend. I have always been terrified of birds But I'm beginning to wonder why exactly that is. Envy is the only conclusion I can come to. I will never be that close to the stars until I become one I will never fly through the clouds without being encased in a metal casket. I want to fly with the birds. They will lend me their feathers so I don't get cold They will sit in their nests Watching me Like proud parents. They will hope I never return. The loss of their feathers is temporary They will grow back, and when they do Maybe the birds will think of me Maybe they will continue to donate their wings to the landlocked girls with wanderlust.
I can't write I hate this
aisling-2
Written by
aisling-2
Irish
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
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