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For You
You flew high on silver wings
above sunset-stained clouds, where cold
stung your eyes and thrilled your skin.
You held hands with happiness
and the horizon of your hopes stretched forever onward.
Until a tempest tossed you into darkness
ripped the air from your lungs,
wrenched the wings off your back
and you fell down
down
down
into depths which can only be found
in the crevices of the human mind and spirit.
You screamed
and only echoes answered you.
I found you battered
but not quite broken
bruised and bloody
but still breathing.
I nudged you
and cajoled you
and annoyed you
and instilled the desire to punch me in you
just enough to get you on your feet again.
Then I tilted your head up towards
your still hopeful horizon
showed you how it still stretched on
and we began walking
slowly and painfully
into forever.
Together.
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I wrote this poem for a friend. She liked it. I hated it. But I went back and worked on it and now we have a begrudging sort of understanding (the poem and I, that it.