Wings Poem by c.J Ledesma

I have a wings of my own,
and no one seems to know.
Its as clear as a silhoulette
and white as a cloud...

My wings is the key through me;
for each of its feathers holds my memory.
Of my sadness, joy, fear and laughter
and memories I keep on my own.

Sometimes my wings are open
other times it disappear.
When I feel like reminiscing:
my wing flapped in speed

My wings is my fortress
like a friend in disguise
But I think it is more than a friend;
For my wings is what I am inside.