Without wings . . .

I wanted to live in a song

Brittle, I’d become by doing no wrong . . .

For what it’s worth I stayed afloat

While a part of me drifted apart . . .

I was never cruel

Never been a lucky fool . . .

I started building a wooden house for my friends

None of them were there when I climbed down . . .

While thinking of making friends out of enemy

I made enemy out of my friends . . .

So I wanted to learn to fly

Without wings . . .

Without wings, I flew . . .

When I looked down from above, my friends started moving in,

Moving into the wooden house, I built for them . . .

They waited for me to fly away . . .

As I circled over the wooden house, I heard them rumour

“I drove them away . . .”

I circled the wooden house wondering

“Did I drive them away? “

Something whispered . . .

Then I flew away after one last circle over the wooden house . . .

Without wings . . .