“wings”
does my heart have to harden with fear and pain
when meeting the violent and vile?
the poor, or the wretched?
outcasts of society can be found far and near
whether face to face,
or by mere hearsay
every time i witness darkness
does my mind and have to recoil?
how narrow, ever shrinking
life then becomes, cutting myself off from kin
building the cage of self confinement
who holds the keys to the
responses of my heart and mind?
who has my wings…
