To me when you fly it's a graceful freedom.
Not only do you see different angles of the world but you feel the wind.
Matters not if its cold or humid.
The wind can carry things like songs of love to the smells of fresh pine wood.
When you fly you can sometimes locate the source.
The wind, it carries you.
Places unknown to the eyes of man.
Up above the clouds and then basking in the gentle sunlight.
Wings of freedom and love.
Something never to forgotten and is often missed when is taken.
☆~☆~☆~ ☆~☆~☆~ ☆~☆~☆~ ☆~
April 20, 2015
YOU ARE READING
For the people like me.
PoetryThese are words that are somewhat like poems. Most are sad and some are abstract. Other times it's just random questions or descriptions. I'll probably just put my feelings here, if I can call them that. It doesn't matter to me anymore who reads. En...
