Below is the poem entitled Wings which was written by poet
Martins. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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What are all these tales we’re supposed to romanticize?
Through all that indifference and hatred,
Soon the length of our armor will make us drown
Can’t you see we can’t support our own weight?
Ripping the circle apart and sewing it back on,
It’s not inhuman, is just impossible…
No more reason to stay in the fire long enough
To get out is to be free…
Complain about the shadows who were faster than us
Now, but back then you gave them wings to fly,
Both alone in the dark communicating by whispers
And at the nineteenth time all I still hear is “Why…”
Were we the heroes we were supposed to incarnate?
Or were we a pale reflection of what everyone sees…
Erasing all the butterflies and roses in one’s thoughts,
Freedom became an answer, but it wasn’t supposed to be…
Are we lost in what never will make sense again?
Close enough to whisper but never again close to kiss,
This was never as much as mine as it was pretending to be,
So long, the wings are on fire even in our dreams…
One step, dripping blood, the door opens,
Step after step, one leaves the room in the dark,
Soon enough, the door should be closed,
The blood is not a footstep, is a battle scar…
Rope forced, skin hurt in this invisible trial,
Long loved, soon burnt, for nothing at all,
Impossible to see, unworthy just to say “it’s enough”,
More than just to hate, is time again to fade in touch…
Bled enough to die, drank enough to cry, but still lived once,
Talked enough to lie, failed enough to try, and still does…
Freedom may be not a wish, but it’s a reason to fly away…
Can’t you see that we’re alright and that it’s time to leave it in the shade…