Air Humans

In their strive of looking different to the ones around-
Uniform people struggling to rise above the crowds,
They always fall-
Birds without wings,
Violins without strings,
Hearts recirculating the same day,
Predictable smiles dissolved in the same morning coffee
Which paints with saccharin their staid array.

But who are us to judge?-
-Wretched air humans -
Hanging in between their dull happy nights and our lack of definition,  
Watching in sorrow their uneventful condition;
Translucent wings hovering with our shivers opened above
As they make their sweet earthly love...

What’s imponderability good at?
Is there any hierarchy like the one we've been taught?
Are they indeed below, are we truly beyond?...
...Unanswered questions sliding on my eyelids, my temples
As I emptily embrace the idealized projection of their angels…

...We were meant to fly, they were meant to stay,
We were meant to cry, they were meant to be ok…
The sky’s the wall and we can’t land on their grass
Just like they can’t reach to our shapeless sighs,
So don’t crave, don’t fight, just be…
Enjoy your flight, be light, be free…

- to Mr. T.W.
05.05.2014