Paper wings

my broken dreams lie,

In my hands like shards of glass,

Making my fingers bleed,

I rest my head on the floor,

o how cold dark and damp it is,

thinking of the days before,

Before this night shadowed my life,

Of the days when my wings beat,

Beat through the purple sky,

waltzing through infinity,

It was then that you took my world,

Took my wings away,

Thus I stand here,

In this room ever so bleak,

With my constellations broken,

And I am now but a cluster of haphazard stars,

It was then that he came,

With shivering pity in his eyes,

In his hands were crumpling,

A pair of paper wings,

He crouched down next to me,

His silver eyes rusting,

This pair of paper wings he gave to me and said:

“If these paper wings don’t fly

I will paint you another sky”