by Irina Whitford
As I tumble from the sky
A downward spiral
To my demise…
And as I lay here
Both wings broken
Whispered words in anger spoken.
While I lay the breeze does billow
I smell your scent still on my pillow
Yet still I wait
For one to care
To bring me back from my despair.
I search the sky and question ‘why? ’
What were the fears which underly
That masks such pain
Tears flow like rain…
A bird with broken wings cant fly.