Someday, I'll Fly Away

Packed a backpack with bad drawings. Cracked shoes by the bedroom door. Mom's voice drifting

down the hallway. I can't hear it anymore. A little bird in a big

cage. Tiny fists in an old school desk. If I

close my eyes long enough, I'm already over the fence. Someday,

I'll fly away past the houses and the highways, where the wind knows my

name. Someday, I'll drift from here 'til the weight

falls off my shoulders and these rough, rough feathers clear. Someday,

I'll fly away. Bus stop wet with last night's rainfall. Breath goes in