Wings

Crawling silent as the moonlight
Wondering where life leads tonight
Will I fall into the blight
or win this never-ending plight?

Begging for it to be all right,
I weave this straight coat of white
And pull it in tight
hoping to leave behind the fight.

 I fear the world has left my sight
When suddenly, just to spite
My fears, a flicker of insight,
And I emerge in gossamer delight.

 If only I hadn’t woven too tight
And for days on end I couldn’t quite,
Shake off the trailing little kite
Of my sticky brown and trite
Carefully woven straight jacket of white.

 

 

The End

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