I feel empty and hollow, and I'm not sure why.
Kind of like a bird, except thats how they fly.
I'd like to take a chance, I would love to try,
if it weren't for the fact that I'd fall and die.
I envy these birds, as they soar through the air.
Some travel in packs, some in a pair.
They all have a knack for not giving a care.
What I would give to feel the wind through my hair.
It feels like I'm trapped, and I can't see the light.
I need someone to help; to free me from my plight.
This person, however, is hidden from my sight.
Please, show yourself, and help me take flight.
I liked your poem. After I
I liked your poem. After I read your comment, though, I am now wondering why you wrote about the exterior feeling (envy), and not what was underneath it, (the lonliness). Then I reread the poem and thought to myself that the reason the birds fly by is maybe because they cannot see something that is covered? People in poetry always say 'go deeper' to find your best writing. Just an observation.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
It's a very good writing,
It's a very good writing, even if you said you weren't really depressed. And it seems as if majority of people write their best when they've fallen into depression