I remember how it felt,
When my wings were clipped from my back,
Betrayed not only by my creator,
But by myself,
In rage from my displacement,
My lack of belonging,
My isolation, surrounded by others who bore so much more in their soul than I,
I ripped the wings free from there place,
For if I did not belong,
Then I should reflect it upon my visage,
And with this one act,
This petulant act,
I fell,
Plummeting for an eternity into the dark,
Far from the light I once knew,
And deep in this eternal night,
I feel regret,
The memories of who I was,
Of those who surrounded,
Offered me camaraderie,
That I met with rage and acorn,
I had thought I would hit the ground,
I was wrong,
For this abyss is infinite,
And so is my fall.
© With clipped wings