TraDigitalArt
Every day a part of me flies away. Where and why? I don’t know anymore. Maybe someone remembers me. On its top floor.
Once a woman found a tiny chick. I brought him home and took care of him. Over time, the bird grew into a beautiful swan.
My head is like a window into this world. Birds come to him on the ledge. I don’t want to look down. I won’t find my favorite faces there.
There’s always room in my big heart for you to fly. I’ve had enough of your song coming around the bend.
