feathers

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feathers

.

We are feathers
floating aimlessly
on the whim of destiny’s breeze
fated to glide on uncontrollable
currents of air
that propel us as they please

Perhaps one day
fate will let a random wind
take me where I never flew
blowing me in the direction
that eventually leads me
closer to you

How Things Are Meant To Be

beach

How Things Are Meant To Be

Infertile Jennifer weeps
as she sits in a waiting
room. The frightened
lady beside her came to
abort her unborn child.

We cherish the lover we
can’t have. And we miss
the soul mate we never
appreciated. Our dreams
become our nightmares.

Reality hurts so much. We
lie to ourselves to ease our
pain. In the end we force
ourselves to accept that’s
how things are meant to be.

Photo taken from Google Images.