A simple toy that always needs help to fly!!!
Growing up, everyone had one,
I remember when I got mine,
And the next one,
And the next one,
You see, they always got a rip in them,
Because I was determined to learn how to fly one,
On my own,
And I taught myself how to be mediocre,
At the art, but like all things,
The art faded in memory,
With being a grown-up taking its place,
And then came relationships,
One-sided at best,
Competitive, at its worst,
Once again, learning on my own,
Only this time with experience,
Being a sometimes cruel teacher,
And then after conversation, I remembered,
The kite (s),
They always ripped after trying to help them fly,
But I always had a way to close the hole,
Until it was to patchy to repair,
But it was the mending that held a purpose in me, now,
Poeple fly,
People wish and fear,
Others are broken,
And others need everyone to heal,
That what I feel, when I see you,
I wish I could fly the way we used to,
I would love to see you soar,
But as even as grounded as we are,
Lovely, yet you still are,
As for me, I take brave steps everyday,
The holes can hardly be seen in my wings,
I guess I try because I miss the feeling,
To bring inspiration, to myself,
To each other, because I know now,
That kites can't fly on thier own,
And neither can we,
Without being hand in hand,
Taking brave steps,
Together,
The dancer moves without a trace,
Poetry by Saga
Read 459 times
Written on 2006-10-14 at 05:54
Tags Kite
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Kite
Growing up, everyone had one,
I remember when I got mine,
And the next one,
And the next one,
You see, they always got a rip in them,
Because I was determined to learn how to fly one,
On my own,
And I taught myself how to be mediocre,
At the art, but like all things,
The art faded in memory,
With being a grown-up taking its place,
And then came relationships,
One-sided at best,
Competitive, at its worst,
Once again, learning on my own,
Only this time with experience,
Being a sometimes cruel teacher,
And then after conversation, I remembered,
The kite (s),
They always ripped after trying to help them fly,
But I always had a way to close the hole,
Until it was to patchy to repair,
But it was the mending that held a purpose in me, now,
Poeple fly,
People wish and fear,
Others are broken,
And others need everyone to heal,
That what I feel, when I see you,
I wish I could fly the way we used to,
I would love to see you soar,
But as even as grounded as we are,
Lovely, yet you still are,
As for me, I take brave steps everyday,
The holes can hardly be seen in my wings,
I guess I try because I miss the feeling,
To bring inspiration, to myself,
To each other, because I know now,
That kites can't fly on thier own,
And neither can we,
Without being hand in hand,
Taking brave steps,
Together,
The dancer moves without a trace,
Poetry by Saga
Read 459 times
Written on 2006-10-14 at 05:54
Tags Kite
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
penfold18 |
|
BlueyedSoul |
|
Kathy Lockhart |
