wings that i may fly

it was so painful the next time i looked in your eyes
you’re far away from me on a different path of life
i could not reach you if in greeting i extended my hand
to lift you from suicide
because in my own mind you’re only a doll to take in my soul
and submit to my fears and complaints
i am serious i can not see you more than a fetish
what is before me is my first mystery
your on a mountian above me i scream to you
but my mouth never opens
tell me how can i reach even talk to you
on your pinnacle of perfection
how with wings could i fly, it wasn’t an instinct
my wings are glued with fear
you lifted a knife above me and stabbed yourself
in the heart
but you were everything, all my power, my whole life,
all the dark
when i stood and watched; unfortunately a child
i couldn’t understand
i would have loved you and held you in my arms
but i can only touch someone else now

(i dont have the guts to sign my name to this)

By The Evil Cheezman

Purveyor of sacred truths and purloined letters; literary acrobat; spiritual godson of Edgar Allan Poe, P.T. Barnum, and Ed Wood; WAYNE MILLER is the head architect of EVIL CHEEZ PRODUCTIONS, serving up the finest in entertainment and edification for the stage, the page, and the twain screens, silver and computer. He is the axe-murderer who once met Andy Griffith.