Wings Poem by Andy Brookes
Wings
with you it's always about winning but you lie in your uncomfortable self made cleft a prisoner fettered unable to sing, lost broken winged.
I, I rise heaven ward on lark wings upon a spiral of song to luxuriate in my freedom.
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: freedom,heaven,lost,song,wings
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8/12/2026 7:44:03 PM # rel_20260811T123139Z_a98d49b
