Up in the grey skies
Where the birds fly
Their song soaring to the heavens
Where angels sing sad laments
For they cry themselves
Their hearts breaking out
For the little girl below
Given no love by those she knows
She sits in her room
Crying in the gloom
Hungry and dirty and afraid
Huddles tight in a bed unmade
The screams and shouts
Come as quick as the belt
This she fears above all else
Her life not like other little girls
(Chorus)
For she has damaged wings
Cannot fly, cannot sing
She wishes for an angel to see
Maybe then this torment she can be free
Published by
Darren Greenidge
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 