Broken Wings Never doing the right thing Because I keep forgetting That my wings Are broken Always convincing everyone it’s okay Because I keep thinking That not rising from the ashes Clashes with all the advances I’ve made I used to fly to forget What do I do now that these wings Will collect every ounce of freedom They give me in exchange for my memories I used to be able to touch the stars What do I do now that the one who Used to excite me only reminds me Of the scars on my left shoulder And that the night is now much colder Despite the world thinking I’m bolder I wish I could accept A world without my wings And all the things that came so easily If only my angels Would put aside their halos instead of fighting foes that left me For dead long ago Never doing the right thing Because I keep believing That me being me Is what’s broken
Original Poem | Broken Wings
2 responses to “Original Poem | Broken Wings”
How beautifully tragic..
Thank you for sharing this, it’s lovely.Loading…
OKAAYY new poem at last!
I got broken wings too. Not in the sense that they can’t be used, but that they are beautifully… imperfect. Will I be able to fly again one day? Perhaps. Do I need to get rid of them for now? No. For they are proof that wounds can and will heal. With healed wounds come scars that remind me of how far I’ve come.Loading…