By Vivienne J

A soaring bird

Of prey

Of agility

Of noble brown

And bright, bright white,

Flying swiftly past.

Perhaps just a tiny

Little fragment of hope

He lies down

And speaks.

“Why do you hide from the ground above?”

“You have a gift, child. What is a gift if you don’t use it?”

“But I am scared,” is my pitiful reply.

Danger and Destiny creep up on me,

Like the space under my bed.

Like when you find out it is all a dream

And must return to reality.

And you must bear the horrendous burden

Of guilt and shame and despair.

You must wait for the Danger to pass,

Knowing that it will never succumb

To the weak refuge you hold in your mind

Made of the glass of broken tears.

What fun is there in waiting?

I step out. The world will wait no more.

I shift.

As my arms are replaced with golden wings, I fly into the night.

After all

What fun is there in waiting?

About the Author

Vivienne is a humorous 10-year old girl who loves to create. She has an animation youtube channel and loves sweets and anything about art.

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