Thursday, April 5, 2012

Superior Wings

Feathers like stars in the wind

Flapping silent and clear

In a state of pure solitude

Do you wander alone.

Your freedom

To watch everything from above

Black eyes that scrutinize the land

No need to bother

Giving land lubbers a helping hand

For they do not bother

To give a hand to you.

They do not notice you hover

In that still, suspended manner you do

But you can see them all

Shuffling along doing their own things;

Their more "important" things.

Who would want to be your friend?

You are just an object to them

Not intelligent

Not important

They could not care less.

But no matter how superior they become

You still hover above them

More superior than they all are

Even if you are silent

Flying without a word or opinion.

1 comment:

  1. I can sense a very spacious feeling in this poem, like a wall is made and you can observe through it. Very interesting.

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