Wings Wouldn't Help MeA Poem by Dominik D. RitesI've been wanting to fly.I've been wanting to fly. This dome suffocates me. It wants me to cry, It wants to aggravate me. I don't know why, But I let it cave in. When I die, I'll have only stone to be engraved in. I used to think this way, And think that it didn't matter at all, That it was okay, But no matter how hard I fall, I can dust myself off, Let out a smug scoff, And pull over tight this protective shawl. I'll cover my head from hate, Squint my eyes away from the fire, And in sight of fate, I'll cut the red wire. I could spread my wings, And break through this empty dome, But there are some things, That shouldn't be left alone. This love for life, I've come to spill, Dulls my knife, And swallows my pill. Even with these wings, I couldn't so much as look beyond the glass, For all of these things, That I can't look past, Are vibrant flowers blooming in my hand, And I couldn't kill them, Couldn't bury them in sand. Wings wouldn't help me fly, Though I know that I can.
© 2018 Dominik D. RitesAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorDominik D. RitesMontreal, Quebec, CanadaAboutI'm an English Literature major looking to share some of my work with the world and gain a bit of experience. I enjoy poetry, fiction, horror, drama, tragedy, essays, and many other genres. I'm hoping.. more..Writing
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