I used to be able to fly
Anytime, day or night.
Many places I would go
Floating, falling, loving.
I spent my youth in other worlds;
My parents never knew.
Each time I bled I spread my wings,
But only in my mind.
Now that I’m grown the habit’s formed,
Tempting me to flee.
When life begins to happen
I begin another dream.
I still can fly, but not as well;
I usually walk these days.
I am falling out of real life
Even though I’ve tried to stay.
I beg someone to take my hand,
And pull me from this haze.
So many dreams, so real to me,
Are now my memories.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem