On the wing
How many coops have we flown,
and broken free for a weekend or two?
How many towns have we graced?
By now it must be more than a few.
Scraping coin and eating scraps,
for a chance to get a moment away.
Remember that time the waiter asked,
Are you sure you two can pay?
Was it our clothes, my look,
or perhaps it was your unkempt hair.
Whatever it was no matter
And no heed paid to the stares.
Rich is not in the owning of things,
it is in the giving away of hearts.
The paying the future with hands held,
shallow pockets and lost parts.
Stolen kisses turned to stolen bags,
security is the held illusion.
We thought we could escape the pain,
living beyond our new delusion.
Fail it would and we would fall
Through the gaps in pavement walked
Where once the flowers grew
and over ice cream we talked.
You hid from me, but I found you out
Flying where none others flew
Face buried in hands
Tears hidden away from view
None could see, but then none tried
The world has lost its task.
Most run at another's signs of pain
Away and never to, as to few ever ask.
Perhaps we are perfect with damage
providing me the fuel to move.
We can fly together on the winds of time
But eventually we both will lose.
Taraz
[ a Steem original ]