I feel the weight on my shoulders,
More pleasant than being a burden,
I open them up and spread them,
My great black wings sprouting.
It’s still too early to fly, but I keep trying,
The air underneath carrying me,
This birth gift of mine I treasure,
Nurturing like the love so known to me.
The world seems so beautiful from the top,
This perspective throws light on all,
But the fallacy lies in abandon and youth,
As they view this gift as a freak of society.
In my thorough ecstasy I failed to notice,
As they take over the vulnerable me,
Burning the wings off my back,
By the flame of judgment and limitation.
The sweet burden of mine is lifted,
The flight of ecstasy is but a faint memory,
But my instinct keeps whispering to me softly,
That the wings of curiosity are ours to carry.