My father invented many things
My father invented many things
Least of them the wings
You should not get close
To things that amaze you
I was soaring high
Pleased to be in the sky
The bird’s eye is what caught me
It is man along that will hear
The measure of my song
The blue jay care not
That I am a poet
What I say may not affect you
But I am true to myself
In the wide open air
My father and I are
Ether brave or foolish
Surely one of them is I
But the escape must be made
From king Minos deed
He shall come to judge my death
What action informs your death?
What word whisper you with
Your last living breath?
The vision I envision is to escape
When I am air borne I reason why
Being free in the sky before I lie
In Poseidon’s lap
To swim is to fly in water
To struggle is not to surrender
The wax is warm upon my skin
I did not heed the warning of my father
Latin poets shall say of me
That I am the artist
Feathers and wax is what
Holds my back
Vanity is the strength
Of my back
Flapping my arms
Against the fall
I call out ‘Father, father forgive me’
And so I die
Deep enough to take
Poseidon into me.
poem by David E. Patton
Added by Poetry Lover
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