Why Haven’t You Grown Wings?
White wings fan
claws grasp a round
piece of wood.
White ropes extend
sixteen floors.
Anyone who passes,
stares.
“My eyes red – wings
wide - I can fly - but
not until my owner let’s
me cling to his finger.
Why haven’t you wings?
Why aren’t your eyes red?
Why do you stand still?
I won’t hurt you.
I can talk – only if I see
a face like mine.”
Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved
DID YOU EVER WONDER WHAT BROUGHT YOU HERE?
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