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Broken wings won't fly
The pain inside me makes me,
tells me who I really am.
In silence I suffer, locked myself up
to feel the peace I once had.
I got strangled in my thoughts.
I know that what is left only is to suffocate.
They take my breath away slowly
only there to share the fear.
And i'm all that is left.
I cannot tell what is fake and what is real.
Caught in my own world
I spread my wings they hit the walls
Take my broken wings
Let me learn to fly again
and teach me how to swim
bring me please my speech
now matter how long I stumble and stutter
let me fall
because the pain inside me makes me,
tells me who I will become.
The ride of your lifeYou found yourself aboard this train,
The day you first were born.
In innocence you travel hence,
Just once your path gets worn.
Challenging hills and swerving dales,
Its course you had to follow.
Many dusks and dawns you'll see,
And tunnels long and hollow.
The journey starts at leisurely pace,
For life has much to teach.
But soon the pace increases,
As for your goal you reach.
No destination had you in mind,
Clickety-clack, increasing speed.
You follow on the rails of life,
Many perils you will heed.
You scatter deeds both good and bad,
Make a friend or deadly foe.
You ride with indecision,
And reap what you do sow.
Your eyes behold such scenery,
Snapshots go flashing by.
Some smile with golden memories,
To bring retrospective sigh.
The name of your train is Destiny,
This is your destined train.
You are a helple
Child of warT'was not base motive that caused the plea,
As child surveyed the erupting land.
Her trembling voice did call out why?
By what command and by whose hand
Did bring civilisation down so low?
Brought dusty wind where trees did grow.
Where once flew birds, now lay burnt sand.
She cried now in that lonely place,
Where once in mind saw fairies play.
Simple childhood lingered still,
Where magic frolicked through the day.
Then men brought guns and bombs and death,
And nauseous gas did taint the breath.
A crippled child would have no say.
Her search that day had brought no food,
She curled with pain in fretful sleep.
Rags stiff with blood brought little warmth,
A silent bundle with no strength to weep.
Ignored by rage of impassioned war,
As they her precious childhood tore.
No family alive to love and keep.
At that dread place where she did die,
In time recovered and brought new life.
Erasing stains and screams of war,
A house was built by man and wife.
A place their daughter was safe to stray.
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