Flight

Wed, 02/05/2020 - 10:35 -- izmazia

Unreachable, uncatchable, hard to claim.

I only watched him from afar,with the fire in my heart, a flickering flame. While I was dusted sepia, he was painted ivory. With a pointed, bittersweet beakthat never seemed to call for me. He flew so freely, so elegant and breathtaking.And there I sat watching him,my heart slowly breaking. Although never said, the words still remain.Unable to find the phrases, only able to feel the pain. But who would listen to me, an old brown bird.I was always unseen,always unheard.  Although there was a pretty mind, there was no pretty face. Which is why I was left behind, so easily replaced.  And although I want to say it, the time is never right.Because love only makes us fall,and unlike any other bird, this one is afraid of height. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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