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My Wings
My wings are blackened
with the soot of My rage
Feathers dipped in honey
sealed inside a concrete cage.
My wings used to flutter
in free and fancy flight
Now are ripped and torn
shredded under the darkest night.
My wings now tattered
from the years of misuse
yet they still soar Me high
in spite of My self-abuse.
My wings are singed
from flying close to the flame
but shown off anyway
aa a symbol from whence I came.
My wings are faded
from the days in the sun
yet the vibrance within
has only just begun.
My wings of strength
have carried Me here
and to spite My troubles
I have left no fear.
AR 2002
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