My father once told me...
"It's hard learning how to fly."
Even with small wings and two left feet, he still wanted to try.
Hope screams in his throat.
His dreams were bigger than eyes, stretched out far beyond any horizon.
Took his first dive, so petrified but, didn't close his eyes.
Until he started to glide...
Gliding towards his future, to celebrate his accomplishments, to prove that he was not just a bird.
Because he wasn't.
He was so much more than feathers and bones held together by his sorrows.
The home he once had, does not compare to one he will have.
He learned how to fly.
Far beyond the sky.
YOU ARE READING
Poems: Gade 12- Present Day
PoetryFrom another guy in the world, to you. Words that aren't spoken, but remain true. I hope you find comfort in my poetry too. A rusted connection to my reality, because honestly. I've lost it.
