{Poem} Shot

What lurks are the ghosts of my past.

I was flying
So high –
Until I was shot
From the sky.
I crash landed
Wings broken,
Marked in defeat.
What I had
Was my feet.
I looked up;
The flock of white
Flew on.
Rock bottom,
My new home.

I limped forward
Dragging my wings.
I hung my head
Never to raise it again.
To do so,
I only saw everything
That I could not reach –
Or be.
Seeing is different from

My wings healed,
Time is faithful like that.
But I was scared

To launch myself again.

What if

What shot me

Still exists?

3 thoughts on “{Poem} Shot

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