Growing Wings

Her father found her
Wide awake, not asleep
In her bed, curled up.
So, he asked her,
"What are you doing?"
She turned to him
And smiled brightly, saying,
"I'm waiting for my wings."
He smiled, highly amused
Telling her to sleep.
A year passes by,
Fear strikes his heart.
She lays in bed
Heart weak, breathing hard.
He found her once
In her bed, curled up.
So he asked her,
"What are you doing?"
She lifted her head,
Her reply so weak.
"I'm waiting for my wings."
He only saw red,
his sorrow and grief
Making him scream, yell
"You will never grow wings!"
His daughter only smiled
And let him be,
Drawing her last breath
Late that very night.
He stood among graves
So many years later,
More sober than he remembers.
He barely could remember
Life without his daughter.
Her name stands out
from stark white marble.
After staring a while,
He turns away, crying,
And whispers to winds,
"I hope you found your wings."


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