The boy with wings

poetry speaks

Let me tell you a story,

a story of a boy.
You see my mother told me this story,
the story of this boy.
What a strange story it was,
the way my mother spoke with so much love.
Their was no rhyme or meaning I could find,
in the story about one.
Still, let me tell you the story,
the story of one boy.

This boy my mother spoke of,
sometimes had wings.
At times they were white,
at times they were black.
This boy was not normal,
he was one of a kind,
yet he didn't belong.
This boy had a normal life that was happy,
and another that was hard.
Though it was a good story,
makes since it did not.

This boy my mother spoke of,
had a friend he could trust.
This friend would never leave his side,
though selfish was this friend.
This friend never left the boy,
even when his life was taken away.
This friend had a normal life that was a lie,
and another that was truth.
I really like this story,
the story of this boy.

I understand the boy,
though the story I don't.
You see,
this boy was born with wings,
wings of white.
With wings made of white,
a choice painted them,
painted them black.
You see,
this boy had a friend,
a friend that never left his side.
With a friend so close,
the boy made a choice,
and took his life.
You see,
I understand the boy,
though the story I don't.

Why did the boy have to hide his wings,
his wings of white and black.
Why did the boy have to be sad,
though act like he was not.
Why did this boy have to keep his life,
his life that took many more.
I understand this boy,
though this story I do not.

I understand this boy.
You see,
The boy does not want wings,
black or white.
The boy does not want to smile,
when he feels sad.
The boy does not want this life,
not one that takes.
That's the story of this boy.

You see my mother told me this story,
the story of this boy.
I listen to it everyday,
as my mother loves this story.
I don't hate this story,
though understand it I can't.
If I could change this story,
this story that my mother loves,
I would change one thing.
I would be born without wings.

Reviews

[AliciaB]

This is intriguing. It is very interesting how the poem, despite being about a specific story, never really gets into the details of the story itself; instead, it describes the narrator's reactions to those details. The repetition of "this boy" does get a bit tiresome in places, especially in the first stanza. However, in part because of this, it does a great job of portraying the way in which the narrator is "stuck" on the idea of this boy and his wings, and how the narrator relates to that experience. Your use of repetition of other important lines throughout does a good job of expressing this idea as well. Interesting twist at the end. Overall, I like this piece, and it was thought-provoking. Nice work!

[unspokenpain]

thank you. As I wrote this I knew I used story and boy way too much. But in the end I decided to keep it as is. Thank you for your feedback

[Sunflower/Sara Kendrick]

As it went on, I had the feeling that it would work out that the writer of the poem would be the boy of which her mother spoke..Thanks for the visit to my page..Sara

[unspokenpain]

your welcome. I do hope that you enjoyed this poem. ^.^