Born to run...or was I?
Am I destined to fall?...
To fall and not be caught?
Or maybe born to hide.
I'm good at hiding.
I'm not good at being found.
Maybe the wild one doesn't need to be caught.
Maybe she's meant to keep running...
No, not running....flying.
She's meant to fly.
Born to fly.
To fly to wherever the warm summer breeze decides to take her.
She flies.
Don't stop.
Don't ever stop.
Just keep flying.
Waiting.
Not on someone to catch her.
No.
For the one who can fly fast enough.
Who?
She doesn't know.
She'll know.
But for now, she just keeps flying.
I just keep flying.
Flying.
Flying.
Into the sun.
[West--Summer of 2006]
1 comment:
Ah, that bitter sweet summer... Well, I gotta tell ya, thats a heck of alot better then the stuff i wrote that fateful summer. And thanx for the comment. Bad day, but I like hearing something good has come out of this craphole of a situation... Love ya lots.-
ASH
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