She looked out the window. . .
And saw a bird fly by,
Oh how she yearned,
To soar into the sky. . .
To be able to fly so high,
She was grounded,
Always told her dreams unfounded,
And made to be crushed,
Beneath their lies,
Never being allowed to rise,
But the dream of destiny never dies.
So she picked up the shattered pieces,
Showing not the slightest hint of weakness
All her dreams taking flight
On her newly found wings
About the Creator
I love music, books, and poems. Poems are to express, stories to create, essays to expound, music to feel. This is a place for my writing to be shared, poem, essay, and short story alike. May you enjoy what this awkward writer has to share.
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