Sometimes I think that I am an angel.

And I pity myself.

I have created walls to hold me, and chains to confined me.
I wonder why people think angels are above humans?
Even I can't find my wings.
Maybe if I were blind I would not see all that I see.
I could turn away from it,
It will not bother me.

I know right and wrong,
But can see only right and left.
I am deprived of the middle.

Sometimes I wish I were an Angel,
So I could clip of my wings and become one of you.
But my wings are not on my back, but in my mind.
And you cannot cut the wings of your mind.

Or maybe I can give you all sight.
But an angel cannot cause pain to others.

Pity.




-E.C.