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Imperfect Angel
My travel begins here.
 Where my arms 
 Will turn to powerful wings.
 I watch as others transform before my eyes.
 I look down
 And see no change in my body.
 One cannot fly
 With only one arm.
 I yell to the others, 
 Now fifty feet above me,
 But they do not turn around.
 My voice is muffled 
 When my fingers stretch,
 And my one forearm turns a bristly white.
 I jump without success.
 My feet do not hover above the ground
 Like the others did.
 My lone wing flaps
 For no one to hear,
 Because no one is left to listen.

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