Wings.

I wish I lived in a world,

Where you could birth your words with wings,

And you could release tiny snippets into the air,

For some stranger to find,

To maybe force a frown into a smile,

Or maybe for a lover, a way to say goodbye.

And maybe, when you woke up,

You would find a verse stuck on your window,

And you would just sit and wonder,

At its elegance and its beauty.

And maybe, in a park, on a picnic,

With music in your ears, and a song on your lips,

You could reach out and grab a ‘mic’ from the air,

And just sing.

And maybe, a loner on his lonely walk,

Would see a ‘friend’ and hold onto it,

Glad to have someone with him when he needs it.

And maybe, just maybe, you,

Would find ‘love’ flying in the air,

Following your path, patiently flying about, until you catch it,

And then maybe, just maybe, you,

Would just know,

That I had released that very ‘love’ into the air,

In the hope you would stumble upon it,

And maybe, just maybe, you,

Would keep it close.