To Fly
Perhaps my wings were never white
They were such brittle, frail things
I studied my bible but never found the answer
I asked my spiritual leader but he was quiet
Perhaps I was never an angel
Maybe my wings were always this shade of gray
Some days the gray looks so ugly
I look on those with white wings with jealousy
I want to soar with the winds of another lifting me high
But my pride as a person demands I fly on my own
Some days it is just so hard,
Especially when the winds of life are cruel and strong
It is then that I look at the white wings,
But I remember that when I had them they helped me none
Perhaps white is not the color for me
I have not found my answers
No religion's scriptures give me peace
No one's "God" comforts me
Perhaps I was always meant to be gray,
I just wish it wasn't such a sad color
It's lonely to be without faith
Yet I cannot find it in me to believe