Whose feathers would i fly with but my own?
But these words can only take me on this low flight
this poetry maze saves me from fright…

Terrified, I am. The heart fluttering, trembling in sweetness
that may not be mine.

These colours too bright
nevertheless, mine
These claws too blunt
for displays non-shine
These words powerless
but they soften
these bounces
these brickwalls
they hurt
but define

that heart beat a little faster
the joys so fine

the nights so bright
and my pen too light.

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