AdultYou are an adultNow.No change to slip into it,No,NOWThe time has come,You are a wife,No longer are you a pubescent teenagerYou may no longerDilly dally,You rushed in,You were pushed,Tripped,Stumbled,It doesn’t matterNow,You are an adult.The challenges continually grow,More,MORE,And more,Twisting you and pulling youStretching you thinner and thinner,Life is a game,You are its jest,Waiting and waiting for you to end,No?Add more!Snap!You are an adult,Now.
Fly Young Nightingale,Break free of the reignsTethering you to the soil. Grasp his breath and lift yourself higher.Fly,Beyond the hate,Beyond the fear. The manifestation of wingsIn the presence of love,Is a truly ethereal experience,no? Yet when the thunder clashes,And the harsh winds tear apart your beautiful wings.When the lighting slashes the very ligamentsHolding your weak self together. When you plummet to the earth,And the harsh shock of realityLeaves you despondent. . . When you see your mutilated wings,Lying just in reach,But you know, it's over.. My poor Nightingale,What's the point in living if you can't fly?