Sore Wings Soar

If you know anything about mental illness, you know that children with parents suffering from mental disorders tend to be secondary sufferers. Parents who go undiagnosed often are not aware that their perceptions are distorted by a chemical imbalance, a chronic misfiring of the brain. Children do not thrive or feel secure in an environment where one day they are gushingly called geniuses and the next they are told they are the idiots of the year. I’ve witnessed situations like this. As an onlooker, I’ve found it heartwrenching, noticing what’s going on without any ability to help. These are the thoughts that inspired me to write,

Sore Wings Soar (a.k.a. The Bird Woman)

She holds up a crumb
Between finger and thumb,
And, sweetly, she whistles my name.
It’s a mean little drop,
And my hunger won’t stop,
But I long for it just the same.

I live in this cage,
‘Twixt her hurt and her rage,
My wings, pinned fast and tight.
Like the hands on the clock,
She prevents the whole flock;
I can’t please her, try as I might.

So, the sun stands still
To her dark, lonely will
‘Til I lose my reason to fly.
But one day she’ll forget,
And that latch will be let.
I’ll soar on sore wings to the sky.

Feature Image by X posid

Author: Rilla Z

I'm a scribbler. I'm genuine. My topics of interest are: this world, the worlds inside my head, and the world to come. Oh, and cups of tea. Yes, I write about my cups of tea.

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