She is on the verge
Of something even
She doesn’t know,
After a year living
In a painful cocoon,
Led her to believe
She is not,
She must feel her
Wings aching
For flight
But where to,
And how high
Will she need
To go to escape
The firmament
That clings to
Her now,
Space men speak
Of escape velocity
Leaving her
With questions
How fast must
She go to finally
Get liftoff,
And just who
It is that holds
Her back,
Trying to clip
Her wings so
She can’t,
She has lived
A year of her life
With the illusion
She had ascended
High enough
Above the ground,
While the whole time
People piled stones
Over her as if
In a grave,
With her having
Barley strength enough
To pick up stone
After stone
After stone
And still unable
To unfurl her wings
Where does she
Fly off to
After she has risen?
To what destination
Can she make it to
That someone
Won’t try
To bury her
Again.
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