wingless like me
if my heart was currency,
you’d be the richest man alive
if being loved meant beauty,
you’d be the prettiest in the land
but if being cherished meant to be doomed,
you’d unlearn how to fly
so heaven would be missing an angel,
your lack of wings would make you fall
you’d be forced to live with us mortals,
where only your smile would make you reach
all that we called impossible
if you were to put it on display
so everyone could see
just how perfect you are,
just how easy you make it seem
to be an angel in a world
for wingless people like me
if i wanted to be prettier,
i’d strive to be more like you
if you needed to relearn how to fly,
i’d spend hours telling the stars about you
but if you wanted to stay,
i’d make arrangements for that too
i’d even hope for it in secret
so it’d be just me and you
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