• The same thing that will make you laugh, will make you cry. The same passion for life, defines the reason we try to fly. There's no cross too heavy to bear. No pain to great to share. To watch you spread your wings, to take the chance that you'll fly away from me. Your voice is a breeze that dances up my spine like manicured fingers on piano keys. An echo in my thoughts, floating away from my memories. Does hope spring eternal ? Or is pain an everlasting inferno ? A white hot blaze to create the Phoenix. Or a tortured soul reaching it’s zenith. For the sake of truth we often lie. For the sake of you I’m willing to die. When I asked “why DOES the caged bird sing?” You put your finger to my lips &said I wasn’t listening. How could I confuse shattered glass with a diamond? Those wings were made for flying. Listen close , that sound is crying …If love is pain but hope remains, Then I hope the cliché maintains the same. If love is defined by what we’re willing to sacrifice, is it the sacrifice worth subtracting my life? Substituting my desires for the facts of life, when the fact remains a roll of die. If something truly belongs to you, they say is will always come back. But, what do you do in the meantime, with the lack of contact? The same thing that will make you laugh will make you cry. The same wings you help spread, may be the reason you’re left behind …

    - J McClain .