when I`m alone,
I sit down and watch the clouds go by,
like a distant memory,
they seem to me,
and then I wonder why,
the pain still is so real,
and I ask myself,
why do I feel the way I feel ?

when there`s a chance,
one in a million,
I jump down the edge,
just to climb up again,
and I find myself
smashed on the floor,
everything was right,
but one thing,
again I find out,
it`s so hard to fly,
with broken wings ...

Copyright: Achim Tober