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Image for the poem WAITING FOR OUR WINGS TO DRY.

WAITING FOR OUR WINGS TO DRY.

I've seen violence.
Oh have I seen carnage.
Human body bonfires.
Women stabbed in their genitals.
The castration of men.
Innocent children slaughtered.
Oh yes...I have seen much.
You become a magnet for pain,
when you've been exposed to it so.
You start being able to read the eyes
with precision...Define the hurt.
Behind everyone's eyes,
is their lifetime movie"REAL".
The things we try to hide inside,
the eyes can never seal.
There is so much to absorb...
You can never get away from it.
It falls with the rain.
Rides on the wind.
The heat brings it up from the earth.
There isn't any escape.
You just have to learn to cope.
Stay away from people.
But even then...
Amongst all the heavy memories.
The stench of suffering.
Something is tattooed on the front of my mind.
While walking a beach,I saw it on a stone.
It was a Monarch butterfly.
Patiently waiting in a ray of sun,
for its wings to dry...
Only they were not wet.
They were mangled beyond any chance of healing.
The Monarch had no idea it was doomed.
It must have flown miles over the water.
Only to be crushed by the waves.
I couldn't fight the tears,
as I brought my foot down upon it.
It had been years since I last cried.
It was this that did it...
This perfect metaphor of a human life.
A beautiful creature,that hasn't any idea,
of such a close demise.
Sitting in the comfort of our own control.
Not knowing we will never be able to"fly"
We are all just waiting for our wings to dry.
Written by jaspersilence
Published
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