freedom.
what does that really mean?
an outsider might look in,
through a small hole in the wall,
and say that we are free.
but i know too well,
i see beyond small hole in the wall.
i see the chains of our words,
that tie us down to the floor.
i see the cuffs of our ghosts,
that hug onto our wrists.
i know that we are not free,
for we are bound by our own misery....
why do i always have to be
the one at the side?
i sit here on the bench,
simply watching them shine;
basking in their glory,
but never having mine.
they’re the stars, and i’m their shadow,
trailing just a step behind.
and the worse part is
i can’t even cry,
because each one of the stars deserves to shine.
so i’ll just sit here,
waiting patiently for the time,
where i won’t envy the stars,
becaus...
We fly.
Whispers of doubt weigh on us,
but still we fly.
Wind howls at us,
threatening to throw us off track,
but still we fly.
The sun sets,
forming a path for darkness,
but still we fly.
We fly
and we fly
and we fly.
We keep flying,
searching for our beacon of hope.
We fly on nothing but faith,
and right now,
that’s more than enough....