Bird That Couldn’t Fly…
Painfully shy,
The bird that couldn’t fly.
Dying on the inside,
A body without a mind.
She likes to be above the clouds,
Into the air so fresh.
A fragrance of purity,
Far from the maddening crowd.
Maybe if you took the time,
Find the person she tries to be.
Maybe if you looked inside,
You’d realize she is me…
© 2012 Pimmi Nag
Filed under: Despair, Love
