Mandy Lee Poems

Broken feathered bird, don't mourn your wing.
You can't fly, but oh you can sing.
You can sing of your dreams in which you soar,
You can sing of your hopes that form your core.
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Failing doesn't make you a failure,
it only makes you stronger.
Don't listen to their hateful words,
For they see the truth no longer.
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Is pain a memory, is pain a friend?
Is this pain real, is it just pretend?
Is it a hurt I've lost, or a hurt yet found?
Is it just inside, or all around?
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How can we live in so much excess,
when people live out on the street?
How can we let them die alone,
out in cold and desert heat?
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Someone needs to hold my hand
and tell me it's okay.
Someone needs to warm my heart
and brighten up my day.
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You gave me your hand,
you took me away.
Now I look at you,
you've taken my heart away.
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Identity is not a given;
it is a song; it is a quest.
It is a journey and its trials,
not just the outcome of a test.
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It is when the stomach is not filled with food,
that the mind can be filled with thought.
It is when the fisherman looks to the sky,
that he gains more than what he's caught.
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Wilted blades streak the lawn
of this cold and empty heart.
Death and vice and love's despair
have come to play their part.
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The tree of wisdom,
once proud and tall,
now a shadow of its former self.
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