Floating high above the skies
               wearing
                                nothing but a pair of wings  
I untie all emotions
                                  and let my hair loose;    
Gliding gently *
                          o'er clouds
                   I soar like the birds of the sky do,
  
           and when the sun begins to die,
                           Oh, I just fly !

After years of tears
Posing as pointless pity
Dug despair a grave

Two flies were sitting together,
And one was smacked right on the head,
The other one did fly away.
The unfortunate one lay dead;
A third fly arrived on the scene,
On the ground was his lifeless friend,
He felt lucky that he was late,
Or else that could have been his end.

Poetry is the gateway to my healing
as eyes are the window to the soul