Flying On Broken Wings

To fly on broken wings,

Is the easiest feat of all,

Yet impossible to do alone.

A graceful black swan,

Was made to ride the breeze.

It's broken wings,

Never getting sore.

A boundless sense of creativity,

Keeping it going.

It cannot fly alone,

Alone, it will plummet.

Alone, it will fall and never get back up.


It will fail.

The white light can be so blinding.

It can turn one in an instant.

It can claw deep into your soul,

And convince you

That you are broken

And that is bad.

You are broken, yes.

So is everyone.

We are all shattered into a million fragments,

Like the wings of the black swan.

We can take our broken fragments

And come together.

The glue of a powerful friendship,

Weaving us into a new picture.

One that speaks of all our hurt,

But accepts it.

Because we are all so beautiful.

We are creating such beauty together.

Our small saplings will lean together

And grow into a magnificent tree

That will never be cut down.

The hate and harm

Can never poison its pure soul.

Come and fly with me,

Into a new dawn.

Your broken wings,

Will carry you.