In the depths of something perceived we think we understand it <br />But in the end it changes and we are left confused <br />If the grass should turn an ugly shade of black <br />Then we must sit back and <br />Think about it <br />As the birds fly we have to understand why and how <br />We can’t just marvel at the spectacle <br />Notes of unspoken feelings <br />Littered in the trees <br />Glass bottles line the empty shelves <br />Broken shards of lives <br />Piled in the trash <br />Birds fly <br />Away and up <br />It seems we all want to fly <br />But we can’t <br />Gently <br />Cautiously <br />Unknowingly <br />What we know flies away <br />Our mind and soul slipping too <br />Purple essences falling through a boundary <br />What we’ve perceived was wrong <br />Left in broken shards <br />We’re filled with an emptiness we cannot erase <br />Looking out a blurry window <br />To finally see clarity.<br /><br />Vanessa Kingsley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/birds-fly-part-one-the-beginning/
