Tilbake Tilbake: Depresjon

The bird that failed to fly.

. . .

I'm born like everyone else
There's nothing wrong with me -
As the eye can see

I spread my wings maybe a bit too early
At a time when the future was unknown and scary
For the elderly, afraid of what would wait
For their first born

Those who had already lived their lives
Watched out for a new one
But unknown, I was for them
With my rebel inventions

I flew in the wrong direction
I can see that even now
I just wish that
I didn’t fall down so hard

I think it was then
My wings got broken
I tried to fix them -
But my feathers kept falling off for each year that passed

I don’t cry because I can’t fly
But because I can see the others do it
I still have my wings
But I do not think I’ll ever use them, like the others do

Don’t judge me
For that, in this life
I was not meant
To be a bird.

. . .

Til forsiden