People always seem to lose their way,
While they wander through the chaotic fray.
They always lose sight of what was important long ago,
As they wander all alone through the cold and bitter snow.
Their eyes filled with tears and faces covered in dirt,
Losing all of their hopes and succumbing to their hurt.
People always seem to give up then and there, as they drop to the ground,
Always concentrating on not what they had; but what they never found.
And I begin to think that this is when people begin to die,
When their selfish wantings are so high in demand, but in such low supply.

I am on my knees, staring up at the beautiful midnight sky,
One of my wings is broken, but I can?t remember how or why.
And I clench a handful of sand tightly in despair,
As the pain in my wings begins to swell, I can only curse and swear.
And I look all around me, as people collapse onto the ground nearby,
And whisper, ?please tell my loved ones goodbye?.
Always people seem to give up on their hopes and ideals,
To those dreams of having something so beautiful and surreal.

The tears from the pain sting my dark eyes,
For I do so very much miss the midnight skies.
And the suffering and misery is so abundant on the ground,
As people fall away from whom they were and die with barely a sound.
I wish I could stretch my wings and soar away from this place,
And forget the sad look that people die with on their face.
But I am left here all alone on the floor, with my broken wings,
And I begin to cry so much that my eyes begin to sting.

Always people seem to give up on attempting to do some good,
Always misinterpreting their emotions for something misunderstood.
And all of their suffering and muffled cries hurt so much for me to hear,
As they give up on all hopes and on reasons to persevere.
The longer I stay on the ground, the more I seem to agree,
That maybe they do have a reason to wallow in their misery.
But I would never want to stay here, below the beautiful stars,
No matter how many cuts and bruises I had from past scars.

I remember looking down on people when I was above,
Speechless from all the lost dreams and lack thereof.
And though there were times when I truly lost sight of hope,
I forced myself to look beyond the pain and into a much bigger scope.
I recollect picking up the small, broken pieces of a dream I once had,
Piecing the hopes back together, even though I was utterly distraught and sad.
Although it hurts very much, I can still stretch out one wing and fly,
And so I leave the ground and soar up to my little black cloud, high in the sky.

Once more I watch the people below while I stay perched above,
Not daring to swoop down and save the ones I so very much love.
Because people never seem to realize the truth and test of it all,
To see if they can grow their own wings when they hit it hard and fall.
They all try to live for each other, but they never perceive,
That people will come and go; will always enter and leave.
But when someone truly understands and finally begins to see,
They grow wings and slowly begin to heal to a degree.

Although I am all alone, on my little dark, black cloud,
With my black feathered wings, looking down at the crowd;
It used to hurt to be alone, but it really doesn?t anymore,
I just dream and wait patiently for what was always in store.
Always people misunderstand; that wings are grown when you are alone,
And the concept that I don?t need anyone to make me happy is finally known.

Always people seem to be in utter misery,
And that desolation used to be part of me.
But I grew black, feathered wings not for them to see,
But for one person and one person only; and that was for me.

Always they seem so sad,
But I wonder?
Forever?