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Short Term Wings

It started as a spark;
A feather that I found.
Then it grew bolts,
gadgets, and wheels
Connected by wires
And hollowed out bones.
Soon the turned into wings
Crafted from gold.


I tried to hide them,
I did,
But the grew much to large.
I had to jump off cliff and glide
Towards the sun.
I knew I needed to have fun,
because soon my wings would disappear,
And i would fall to the ground once more.
Then I would need to find them again . . .


But that shouldn't be too difficult.



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crushed_veneer said...
May 17, 2012 at 3:44 pm:
This is a really good poem :)
 
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