#singingducks

[onthewingsofinspiration-blog]

Crayola Doesn't Make a Color for Your Eyes

Eyes

they say

are the window to the soul. 

So is my soul empty, a

wasteland

of dead dreams and broken 

promises and wishful hearts? 

But then I look at you

and it's all okay again

So, perfection, 

let me look into your soul. 

Let me wish upon the shooting stars

of beauty that fly through your mind

let's

run away together

off to Never Never Land

the second star to the right and straight on

till morning

says your perfect soul

But shooting stars are bits of magic, 

something Crayola has yet to find

Crayola doesn't make a color for your eyes,

Perfection, 

not yet

so the page will remain empty

and my soul unfilled

Crayola doesn't make a color 

for our eyes. 

[onthewingsofinspiration-blog]

Freefall

The floor

Shudders and shakes

beneath me

and creaks so loudly

it seems everything will fall to pieces

with just one step.

Every waking hour

and sometimes when I sleep

it comes down to the simple

fact of life;

what to do?

What to say?

I freefall

into nothing

asking how to die

asking to die

But a freefall

into nothing

should show you that I'm

already gone

and the creaking floor remains an echo

of a precarious life

hanging in the balance

and broken by a single step.

--SOPHIA

[onthewingsofinspiration-blog]

Exploding In Your Eyes

Do you recall how I was once your fire?

And we, a regal cloud of unity

Meandering through the closing blues of night

Commanding stars to glitter;

Dawn to blush?

Do you remember how I was once?

Very long ago

I know

When we were comets

The world our thunderous stage

Commanding skies to glow

Dawn to blush?

 --SOPHIA

[onthewingsofinspiration-blog]

I'm Tired

I've been absolutely terrible about updating recently, I know, but we've all been busy with school and sports and life! I hope most of our wonderful readers are still out there and that everyone is still writing! 

I'm tired.

I'm tired of dreaming dreams that can't

or won't

come true.

I'm tired of always having to be the one that

pedals up the hill

while you coast down.

I'm tired of having to push aside

me time for you

but most of all

I'm tired of being

the only one loving here

I'm tired of being the only one trying

I'm tired of being the only one

that sits up late to wait

I'm tired of trying to deserve you,

when all along

You are the one that

can't handle me.

I'm tired of living inside of you

and I'm tired of being scared.

I'm tired of being tired.

[onthewingsofinspiration-blog]

This Room I Can't Escape

My chair is empty sitting alone at my desk the soft cushion is not sunken in because nobody has relaxed for a while. My desk is bare. The usual slew of papers and textbooks is neatly piled at the side and my laptop rests gently on top. My bed is made and the covers are not tossed over the side like rain dumped onto Earth I used to think giving my room a little blue. My walls are silent the stories are whispers now, not shouts or screams or little prayers because I have not written in a while. Where are my books? My calculator hangs precariously on the edge of Oliver Twist- the one real thing still in here. Death to math by books. I give a small smile. My room is sad the name no longer stamped against everything and anything and I don't recognize it anymore. I've gotten shoved off the unbeaten path not enough steps to let me hold on and now I can't get back on. This room is my cage my prison, my sanctuary of everything wrong and nothing right. Locked in a game of chase Cat and mouse Never-ending circles that are in no way forgiving. This room is my cage, my sanctuary My place that I don't know how to get out of Or do I want to? I can't decide.

[onthewingsofinspiration-blog]

One More Minute

Our love is our strength. Love is like holding hands and always being connected, even if you are far apart. Love is like the alarm clock you hit snooze on because you want just a moment to be wrapped up and safe in his arms. Love is like the piece of mail you wait for forever and are never disappointed in. Love is like when the want and the need to say something becomes the same thing because words are your lifeline when the world is too hurried to say hello. Love is like the tick on a clock because each second is beautiful and special in its own way. Love is like the foam on the sand because you can always have it but never tame it. Love is like the sky, because it is never ending and filled with argument and disagreement and happiness. Love isn’t what you see because each love is precious and different and love is like love because love simply is.

--Sophia

[onthewingsofinspiration-blog]

Night Terrors

In remembrance of those who were liberated from Auschwitz today, during the Second World War. --Sophia

When the night opens

darkness reigns

like a shadow king

clouding all reason

and sometimes even clouding hope.

Little Bird, why do you cry?

Why do you shout out and scream?

I can't help you

when the darkness sets in

so I sit

and wait and watch

and sometimes even pray

but I can't chase the demons out.

Night after night

ghost after ghost

haunts you, hurts you,

follows you, and is branded to you

in unforgettable black ink.

They were your saviors, your Prophets,

your God

But not your mind, Little Bird

and for that I am truly sorry

I cannot go back

and fix the holes in

your mind and heart

although I wish I could.

Little Bird, why do you cry?

Why do you shout out and scream?

I can't help you

when the darkness sets in

so I sit

and wait and watch

and sometimes even pray

but I can't chase the demons out.

[onthewingsofinspiration-blog]

Scream

Do you know what a

Scream is? Can you feel

It to the very core

Of your being-

An endless cycle of

Not knowing or maybe

It’s the knowing that hurts.