You want to find the wings to fly away from your town.
You want to get away from everything you’ve ever known. You watch the planes and the birds fly by, and you wish you could be one of them, but you’re not, you’re not.
I wish I had wings. Then I could fly free of this prison. Free from all that holds me down. I’ve tried in vain to make wings for myself, but I’ve been too afraid to try them. Too afraid of my own inabilities.
chicken wings aren’t for me
but i would deep fry and saute ’em
a burger is not my thing
but i’ll have a drink while you eat it
many foods i don’t consume
but with love and butter i’ll make it
so if your in the mood
any kind of food
or whatever you chose…
is yours to have
please don’t ever doubt it
you fly and soar across the sky. it’s a key to freedom. you can lift off of the earth and be free from everything that ties you down. they can be thin or thick, but it doesn’t matter what freedom looks like, it just matters how well it gets you there. Freedom comes in all shapes and sizes. they’re light and feathery, and only the small have been granted with them.
Anna made a bird costime today. I don’t know what made her think of it but it was a macaw. She named herself amythist as she was wearing all purple. She made wings from cardboard and added a beak and eyes to a baseball hat. She even put on purple
I’ll spread my wings, ripped of their plumage and strength. I’ll fly. I SWEAR I’ll soar high above your atrocious yet lovely head. I’ll feel beautiful when I look in the mirror, even if I see your dangerously perfect face laughing at me, shining in the mirror behind me.
You say I’ve fallen from grace,
but really I’ve soared to freedom.
If they say you gave me wings, they’re wrong. You merely provided the take off trail. My wings were given to me at birth, by mother Earth and Father time. Your love did once provide the means for me to depart, but to give you credit for my wings would be admitting you meant ,more to me than a couple shards of broken heart.
If I had wings I wouldn’t fly away. I might go for a joy ride, but I’d stay right here. With you. I you had wings, what would you do? Stay? Go? Just visit? I hope you’ll stay, but sometimes I am not sure. Never have been, probably never will be.
I wasn’t going to fall on my face when the time came. I was going to stand my ground; state the facts and leave. I wasn’t going to let them bring me back down to their level. I would tell them my reasoning and my feelings and fly as far away from them as possible. I would give them the bare minimum and be done with their world of immaturity and selfishness. I had bigger matters to tend to.
…..butterfly wings, fluttering, so delicate, irridescent and hypnotically beautiful….angels wings, faery wings, lacey and insubstantial and yet full of the magical ability to spirit you away…..
I tore through the tendons and light muscle with teeth. I punished flight with digestion. How arrogant to think they can be winged and take on the sky. We alone shall dethrone them to the plate.
the buds on our backs itch, ache
we contort our shoulders,
push, rub against our chairs for comfort
surreptitiously, afraid of being spotted
camouflaging ourselves
He stepped forward into the darkness, not expecting to ever see the scarred man again. “Where will you go?” The clown asked in a raspy voice, his fingers trembling under his purple gloves. Though blood was running down his cheeks, he held his composure, for today was the day he had dreaded. The day he left. “I don’t know,” the vigilante breathed, and jumped off the top of the skyscraper. His black wings sliced through the dark sky, and there was nothing. Nothing but the fact he was never coming back.
paul mcartney? can’t event think of what they might have done apart from Mull of Kintyre….flying, RAF, a badge of honour, …..eagles..I can fly like an eagle..soaring, swooooping high high high above everything….
You be my Peter Pan, I’ll be your Wendy Darling. I don’t need wings, I don’t need no Fairy Dust from Tinkerbell, and I don’t need no happy thoughts. With you right beside me, holding my hand, you told me, Wendy Darling, let’s fly like there’s no tomorrow.
Flying above and under the pink cotton candy clouds with wings I could never have, I solemnly thank my grandma who passed on her flying ability to me when she went to a place where she could find bliss and happiness years ago.
If only; even if just for a fleeting summer’s day. I wish I could fly away…not because I don’t like where I am, but because there is nothing keeping me here.
The wings were sticking out of the girls’ back, as valiant as an angel. He stared at her in horror, his eyes growing to epic proportions. He wanted to run, wanted to scream, but he could not stop staring at the beautiful white feathers protruding from her shoulder blades. She smiled and whispered, “This is who I really am.”
I have 2 wings, one is really beautiful, bright-colored and sparkling, but one is dark, gloomy and almost broken. These two wings will guide me to the very end, they will show me the just and unjust society, and the happiness and sorrow of a human’s life.
It was chaos and confusion. Children were screaming and running, pushing each other out of the way to save themselves. The only light they had came from the cave entrance, at the end of the long tunnel. Freedom was there. Men shouted behind them, demanding them to stop.
Peri heard a young girl scream behind her and risked a glance over her shoulder. They were firing crossbows at them, each arrow attached to long ropes. The little one screamed in pain as she was pulled back by the bolt in her back. As she was reeled back, more arrows were fired, snatching the other children.
Someone slammed into Peri’s shoulder and caused her to fall back, rocks cutting into her arms. The children trampled over her like a herd of wild animals running from predators. Soon as she could, Peri scrambled to get back to her feet only to feel a hand grab her hair from behind and yank her back. She was kicked over onto her stomach and a foot planted itself on her back.
“Hey boss, look at the wings on this one.” The man shouted back. Peri strained her neck, looking over her shoulder to see a larger man walk over. An eyepatch covered his left eye but did little to cover the gruesome scar that ran down his face, pulling his mouth back in a pernament sneer. He knelt down, running his hands across Peri’s feathers. The girl set her jaw and her wing shot up, nailing the man in the side of the face. He stumbled back with a grunt and growled.
“Cut ’em off.”
The men laughed then, cruelly grabbing her wings and pinning them down while few others walked over with swords and axes. Peri looked ahead, towards the light. She could see the shapes of the others, escaping out of the tunnel. She struggled but it was futile, the men overpowered her easily. She screamed for help.
But she was alone.
Wings clipped flight risk, I can’t live to watch you die like this…. She heard her words pounding in her ears while her feet hit the pavement and the air burned her lungs. If it had ever been possible to go faster, climb higher, or live larger, now was the time.
Spread ’em and get the fuck out of here. I’ve only ever known that’s what I’d always do. While mine are invisible to most in this hell-hole, I’m more apt to fly than anyone else.
boy i wish i had wings. wings wings wings. wings to fly. duh. wings to do whatever i want to do. its like having guts. the wings to sing in front of an audience. the wings to speak my mind ALWAYS. the wings to be who i am and only who i am. life would be perfect with wings. yeah.
I took a bite of the wing and the delicious honey barbecue flavor filled my mouth. My taste buds began tingling and jumping with joy as my hand brought the wing closer to my hungry mouth once again.
Anybody remember that episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer when Spike makes a reference to Buffy choosing “The Wind Beneath My Wings” as the featured song at their wedding reception? ….Yeah, that one.
Although I’ve often thought flying would be nice, I’ve rarely wanted wings. They look so fragile to me. And I imagine they might be cumbersome for a human. I also think flying with wings would be tiring for a human. But maybe not. – I’ll have to ask the next winged human I see.
you are the wind beneath my wings. that was always our song best friend. you were my best friend you are my best friend. I understand that you had to move to NY to spread your wings, just know that you will always be a part of me. I love you like I love my own self, because you are a part of me and I of you.
Far up into the sky somewhere deep into the darkness is a buoyant kingdom where angels live and souls of the earth wander. Here there are strict rules, rules with no argument, only compliance. A female angel named Zara stares through the abyss into the eyes of her lover. A panic arises when the two beautiful angels hear the door blast open to see God roaring at the door. He takes his mighty hands and rips from them their wings and hurls them out into the emptiness.
For everything that it was in reincarnation, the best thing that John had was wings. He dreamed all his life that he could fly, and now that he was a beatle (of course not what he expected) he could do that at will. Too bad they didn’t teach him against birds.
She was a flight risk. He knew that much. He always gave her the option of leaving him. He was nothing but trouble from the start. She would always smile wistfully at him and say, “To leave, I’d have to take you with me. You’re my wings. I need you to fly.”
Spread my wings and fly away, off into the moonlight or maybe into the sun, but what fun would flying towards the sun be? the blindness that would hinder me, would make me feel less free, so I think I will fly by the moon, over a river, through a forest, up to the stars. Not into the sun though… that just sounds ridiculous.
If I had wings, I want to fly to the ends of the earth and not worry about anything at all. I want myself to be free, to explore the world head-on. Money always tends to stop everyone at a halt when it comes to travel. But if we had the ability to fly with our own wings, then everything would just be priceless.
God gives wings as eagles.
I like Wings; the band Wings, I mean. Paul McCartney was in it.
Sometimes I wish I had wings.
Y’know, like Jenny says in Forrest Gump?
Dear God, please make me a bird so I can fly far, far away.
I’d like to have wings.
He spread his wings and let himself just float upwards into the blank sky. His feet clawed for the ground. They still weren’t used to being free from it. He passed birds who all gave him weird looks, feeling uncomfortable that something they always saw attached to the ground was now airborne.
“Did you ever hear the story?” Daniel asked, a mischievous glint in his green eyes.
“What story?” Alex asked, leaning forward in anticipation.
“The one about the angel whose wings were ripped off. These guys ripped them off and filmed it. Anyone who watches the tape goes mad and the angel comes to kill them,” he purred.
“You’re lying,” Alex laughed, tugging on Daniel’s coppery hair.
Daniel grinned and swatted at her hand, “Whatever you say, Dollface.”
You want to find the wings to fly away from your town.
You want to get away from everything you’ve ever known. You watch the planes and the birds fly by, and you wish you could be one of them, but you’re not, you’re not.
You’d like to think so, though.
I wish I had wings. Then I could fly free of this prison. Free from all that holds me down. I’ve tried in vain to make wings for myself, but I’ve been too afraid to try them. Too afraid of my own inabilities.
chicken wings aren’t for me
but i would deep fry and saute ’em
a burger is not my thing
but i’ll have a drink while you eat it
many foods i don’t consume
but with love and butter i’ll make it
so if your in the mood
any kind of food
or whatever you chose…
is yours to have
please don’t ever doubt it
© LL
you fly and soar across the sky. it’s a key to freedom. you can lift off of the earth and be free from everything that ties you down. they can be thin or thick, but it doesn’t matter what freedom looks like, it just matters how well it gets you there. Freedom comes in all shapes and sizes. they’re light and feathery, and only the small have been granted with them.
Anna made a bird costime today. I don’t know what made her think of it but it was a macaw. She named herself amythist as she was wearing all purple. She made wings from cardboard and added a beak and eyes to a baseball hat. She even put on purple
flying! wings and rings and other random things i don’t know…
I’ll spread my wings, ripped of their plumage and strength. I’ll fly. I SWEAR I’ll soar high above your atrocious yet lovely head. I’ll feel beautiful when I look in the mirror, even if I see your dangerously perfect face laughing at me, shining in the mirror behind me.
You say I’ve fallen from grace,
but really I’ve soared to freedom.
If they say you gave me wings, they’re wrong. You merely provided the take off trail. My wings were given to me at birth, by mother Earth and Father time. Your love did once provide the means for me to depart, but to give you credit for my wings would be admitting you meant ,more to me than a couple shards of broken heart.
If I had wings I wouldn’t fly away. I might go for a joy ride, but I’d stay right here. With you. I you had wings, what would you do? Stay? Go? Just visit? I hope you’ll stay, but sometimes I am not sure. Never have been, probably never will be.
I wasn’t going to fall on my face when the time came. I was going to stand my ground; state the facts and leave. I wasn’t going to let them bring me back down to their level. I would tell them my reasoning and my feelings and fly as far away from them as possible. I would give them the bare minimum and be done with their world of immaturity and selfishness. I had bigger matters to tend to.
…..butterfly wings, fluttering, so delicate, irridescent and hypnotically beautiful….angels wings, faery wings, lacey and insubstantial and yet full of the magical ability to spirit you away…..
I tore through the tendons and light muscle with teeth. I punished flight with digestion. How arrogant to think they can be winged and take on the sky. We alone shall dethrone them to the plate.
the buds on our backs itch, ache
we contort our shoulders,
push, rub against our chairs for comfort
surreptitiously, afraid of being spotted
camouflaging ourselves
one day we will burst free
He stepped forward into the darkness, not expecting to ever see the scarred man again. “Where will you go?” The clown asked in a raspy voice, his fingers trembling under his purple gloves. Though blood was running down his cheeks, he held his composure, for today was the day he had dreaded. The day he left. “I don’t know,” the vigilante breathed, and jumped off the top of the skyscraper. His black wings sliced through the dark sky, and there was nothing. Nothing but the fact he was never coming back.
paul mcartney? can’t event think of what they might have done apart from Mull of Kintyre….flying, RAF, a badge of honour, …..eagles..I can fly like an eagle..soaring, swooooping high high high above everything….
You be my Peter Pan, I’ll be your Wendy Darling. I don’t need wings, I don’t need no Fairy Dust from Tinkerbell, and I don’t need no happy thoughts. With you right beside me, holding my hand, you told me, Wendy Darling, let’s fly like there’s no tomorrow.
Flying above and under the pink cotton candy clouds with wings I could never have, I solemnly thank my grandma who passed on her flying ability to me when she went to a place where she could find bliss and happiness years ago.
If only; even if just for a fleeting summer’s day. I wish I could fly away…not because I don’t like where I am, but because there is nothing keeping me here.
The wings were sticking out of the girls’ back, as valiant as an angel. He stared at her in horror, his eyes growing to epic proportions. He wanted to run, wanted to scream, but he could not stop staring at the beautiful white feathers protruding from her shoulder blades. She smiled and whispered, “This is who I really am.”
I have 2 wings, one is really beautiful, bright-colored and sparkling, but one is dark, gloomy and almost broken. These two wings will guide me to the very end, they will show me the just and unjust society, and the happiness and sorrow of a human’s life.
Your beautiful wings brush against me like a dark velvety night. You make me fly, above everything. I have forgotten the mundane.
It was chaos and confusion. Children were screaming and running, pushing each other out of the way to save themselves. The only light they had came from the cave entrance, at the end of the long tunnel. Freedom was there. Men shouted behind them, demanding them to stop.
Peri heard a young girl scream behind her and risked a glance over her shoulder. They were firing crossbows at them, each arrow attached to long ropes. The little one screamed in pain as she was pulled back by the bolt in her back. As she was reeled back, more arrows were fired, snatching the other children.
Someone slammed into Peri’s shoulder and caused her to fall back, rocks cutting into her arms. The children trampled over her like a herd of wild animals running from predators. Soon as she could, Peri scrambled to get back to her feet only to feel a hand grab her hair from behind and yank her back. She was kicked over onto her stomach and a foot planted itself on her back.
“Hey boss, look at the wings on this one.” The man shouted back. Peri strained her neck, looking over her shoulder to see a larger man walk over. An eyepatch covered his left eye but did little to cover the gruesome scar that ran down his face, pulling his mouth back in a pernament sneer. He knelt down, running his hands across Peri’s feathers. The girl set her jaw and her wing shot up, nailing the man in the side of the face. He stumbled back with a grunt and growled.
“Cut ’em off.”
The men laughed then, cruelly grabbing her wings and pinning them down while few others walked over with swords and axes. Peri looked ahead, towards the light. She could see the shapes of the others, escaping out of the tunnel. She struggled but it was futile, the men overpowered her easily. She screamed for help.
But she was alone.
Wings clipped flight risk, I can’t live to watch you die like this…. She heard her words pounding in her ears while her feet hit the pavement and the air burned her lungs. If it had ever been possible to go faster, climb higher, or live larger, now was the time.
Spread ’em and get the fuck out of here. I’ve only ever known that’s what I’d always do. While mine are invisible to most in this hell-hole, I’m more apt to fly than anyone else.
boy i wish i had wings. wings wings wings. wings to fly. duh. wings to do whatever i want to do. its like having guts. the wings to sing in front of an audience. the wings to speak my mind ALWAYS. the wings to be who i am and only who i am. life would be perfect with wings. yeah.
I took a bite of the wing and the delicious honey barbecue flavor filled my mouth. My taste buds began tingling and jumping with joy as my hand brought the wing closer to my hungry mouth once again.
Wings. Wings are B
Wings.
Anybody remember that episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer when Spike makes a reference to Buffy choosing “The Wind Beneath My Wings” as the featured song at their wedding reception? ….Yeah, that one.
Wings
Wow… old favorite line.
“Wings! I don’t have wings!”
“Of course not! You’re a boy.”
Although I’ve often thought flying would be nice, I’ve rarely wanted wings. They look so fragile to me. And I imagine they might be cumbersome for a human. I also think flying with wings would be tiring for a human. But maybe not. – I’ll have to ask the next winged human I see.
you are the wind beneath my wings. that was always our song best friend. you were my best friend you are my best friend. I understand that you had to move to NY to spread your wings, just know that you will always be a part of me. I love you like I love my own self, because you are a part of me and I of you.
Far up into the sky somewhere deep into the darkness is a buoyant kingdom where angels live and souls of the earth wander. Here there are strict rules, rules with no argument, only compliance. A female angel named Zara stares through the abyss into the eyes of her lover. A panic arises when the two beautiful angels hear the door blast open to see God roaring at the door. He takes his mighty hands and rips from them their wings and hurls them out into the emptiness.
For everything that it was in reincarnation, the best thing that John had was wings. He dreamed all his life that he could fly, and now that he was a beatle (of course not what he expected) he could do that at will. Too bad they didn’t teach him against birds.
She was a flight risk. He knew that much. He always gave her the option of leaving him. He was nothing but trouble from the start. She would always smile wistfully at him and say, “To leave, I’d have to take you with me. You’re my wings. I need you to fly.”
Spread my wings and fly away, off into the moonlight or maybe into the sun, but what fun would flying towards the sun be? the blindness that would hinder me, would make me feel less free, so I think I will fly by the moon, over a river, through a forest, up to the stars. Not into the sun though… that just sounds ridiculous.
Wings flying high in the sky, little bird wants to hide.
If I had wings, I want to fly to the ends of the earth and not worry about anything at all. I want myself to be free, to explore the world head-on. Money always tends to stop everyone at a halt when it comes to travel. But if we had the ability to fly with our own wings, then everything would just be priceless.
God gives wings as eagles.
I like Wings; the band Wings, I mean. Paul McCartney was in it.
Sometimes I wish I had wings.
Y’know, like Jenny says in Forrest Gump?
Dear God, please make me a bird so I can fly far, far away.
I’d like to have wings.
He spread his wings and let himself just float upwards into the blank sky. His feet clawed for the ground. They still weren’t used to being free from it. He passed birds who all gave him weird looks, feeling uncomfortable that something they always saw attached to the ground was now airborne.
“Did you ever hear the story?” Daniel asked, a mischievous glint in his green eyes.
“What story?” Alex asked, leaning forward in anticipation.
“The one about the angel whose wings were ripped off. These guys ripped them off and filmed it. Anyone who watches the tape goes mad and the angel comes to kill them,” he purred.
“You’re lying,” Alex laughed, tugging on Daniel’s coppery hair.
Daniel grinned and swatted at her hand, “Whatever you say, Dollface.”