Paper Wings by David Smith
At my lowest, I’m flying so high
with these paper wings of mine
I’m gliding through the midnight sky
on this journey of lies
Paper wings didn’t protect me
A painted picture of deceit
Tear soaked wings of paper
I crashed down 6 feet deep
I’m a 35-year-old poet/writer/lover of words,
I write to read my own stories. To read how far I’ve become…
My debut title Heartbreaks & Heartbreaks and my latest book Streetlights & Night Lights are available through Amazon and Kindle right now, thank you so much!
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Eve Poetry 
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