he bore wings, i said,
this child, as he stuttered
velvet words from those
quivering lips. and he
wished to fly, just like
most of us.
he sat on his wooden chair
just right beside his window
and wrote on and on about
beautiful things and ugly things
he made beautiful.
still he wished to fly,
to know how it feels,
not only to just think
that's how it feels.
so he spread his paper-wings
filled with prose and feelings
and flew away into the night
and stayed on the clouds
smiling at us,
writing on and on about
beautiful things and ugly
things we're making beautiful.
..for Jason (BlacK_diamond_Bay)
© 2008 Skarlet Rebell Queen
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