The plane door flies open,
I teeter over the edge.
The birds circle below me,
My heart longs to be with them.
The closest I will ever be
To soaring across the skies
With them is this.
To my side,
I watch as wispy clouds
Float.
How simple it must be to just
Float.
Below me, many fields
Cover the ground.
I throw myself
Down towards the greenery.
I tumble through the emptiness.
Hoping I never reach the end,
But, alas, my feet hit the floor
And the reality comes at me
Like a gust of wind.
-
Author:
Skye Bellasario (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 4th, 2017 15:59
- Category: Short story
- Views: 34
Offline)
Comments1
Sounds like a blast, Sky! Have a great time on your birthday. Enjoyed your poem,
Thank you Louis!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.