To Fly

Fly.
Fly high.
Drop the life-days that go by.
Maybe I don't really need 'em.
Maybe to die,
Is a way to fly:
Fly, far beyond the sky.
Maybe to die,
Is a kind of freedom
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Fly--
To the sky,
Don't ask why.
Let the questions roll on by.
Close each eye.
Free a sigh.
Let it go, no longer try.
Flowing streams.
Draining dreams.
Nothing's real, it only seems.
Let it flow.
Let it go.
No more pain.
Nothing to lose, nothing to gain.
No more grief or fear,
No more sorrow, regret, worry, or woe.
Not another day, let alone another year.
And, I know,
What I now want:
Freedom.
I want freedom.
I want freedom.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
So...when the black drapes fall upon all things--
As it must happen, by and by--
I'll take them, and make them--in my sad fearful heart--as if my wings:
Then maybe I wil be able to fly.
Maybe it will mean freedom when I die.
Fly!



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--Written by Michael LP
aka MLP, aka Mr. Poet, aka PoetWithCancer, aka PWC
(I'm just me)
Written on Thursday, February 18, 2010 3:53 pm PST
Temperature: 67° F. (Feels like 67° F.) High: 67° F. Low: 47° F.
Fair. Wind: ESE 3 mph Visibility: 10 mi
Humidity: 31% Dewpoint: 35° F. Barometer: 29.8 in and falling
Sunrise: 6:25 am PST Sunset: 5:24 pm PST
Copyright © 2011 by M.L.P. All rights reserved