a beautiful prison

and she flew.

flew out of her cage

far out into the clear gray skies.

where she was flying to,

she had not a clue.

but all that mattered

was that her wings carried her through the air,

that she could finally feel the soft wind on her skin. 

and she would keep flying,

until her wings decided to give out.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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