revived

I was digging through some stuff I wrote quite a few years ago.
It's terrible.

...

There's so much I want to tell you
About my joys my fears my path,
Even when I hear him calling
Even when I feel the nudge,
I let the window close right by me
Lock the door and shut my eyes.

How does the apple fall so far from the tree
That it grows wings and tries to fly away?

...

There's a bird in the air it is flying
Flying to where it calls home
No sense of direction
The wind tells it where to go.

There's a girl on the stage she is crying
Crying to be left alone
Sick of the monsters inside her
Screaming from her cellular phone.

There's a man in his cage he is dying
Dying to be set free
Empties the change from his pockets
To buy himself some more misery.

It's the broken wing that guarantees your fall,
On shallow dreams and stupid things we bet it all.
When summer goes the heroes know,
The worst is yet to come.