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Borrowed Wings
Born to ground
I dream of flight.
Toil and frown
I seek the night.
Prison of soil
I begin to scowl.
Close my eyes
I become the owl.
To the moon
and back again.
I soar by grace,
as do my friends.
With wisdom wrought
from borrowed wings,
I begin to write
what this heart sings.
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Born to ground
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Toil and frown
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Prison of soil
I begin to scowl.
Close my eyes
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Poetry: Flying
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