My Pinions.

on Hypersomnia



Like clouds of dust
In stormy weather
Like a falling leaf on its way down
Whirling through the early afternoon
These are times that make me falter
Make me stagger all alone
Holding my head in my hands
I think I'm gonna fall quite soon

Hear the blackbirds song their love songs
Hear the magpies croak at dawn
Listen to the nightingale's lament

Spread my own wings, smooth my feathers
Raise my own voice (though it scares me -
I always find the wrong words for the things I meant)

Little, bird your cage is open ,
Knowing the breeze is there to carry you
Don't you hesitate, don't you hesitate
But time is cruel, I bruise my pinions, broke my will, and choked my voice
Now it is too late, now it is too late
Now it is too late, now it is too late
It is...