I have fire proof hands and a jump start heart
To let the pain soak in without setting me ablaze is an art
I can't tell if it is cost or punishment
The doors to the promised land have been closed since heaven sent
Me
So I've been called an angel by the multitudes
To see the faces here at times feels tumultuous
The way the warden wraps his knuckles on the bars
Makes me look out just to ask, who is gazing at the stars?
We
We is a solitary term that changes
But the problems get passed down along the line like generations
Its not exactly the same as a genetic wing clip
But getting up and skyward is still impossible for the angel