Your words don’t fall on empty ears,
Instead they fall on a lonely heart.
But maybe we were lonely from the start.
My word just looking for a place to belong.
I don’t want to be a verse but an entire song,
Though we all have our song that the fat lady sings.
We all soar high until like Icarus the sun burns our wings.
Yes it stings,
But it’s not the fall that matters but how you get back up.
Will you be a lone Wolf or one in a litter of pups?
© Akeem Rowe Kingsinister, 2016