Flying is an overrated superpower. I would much rather be like Magneato and have the ability to move metal with my mind. Or anything besides flying really. So my one superpower I am just saying won’t be flying.
So, if I groe wing… I could escape. I could fly in grace, I could feel the cold, icy wind in my hair. I could breathe for once in my life, I could feel inmense love for the one I least expect. I could fly, I could feel free. I could feel beautiful, I could feel dashing. I could try to fix myself.
They are the things we need to fly. In life. To do what we want. Because, you know what, Humans do have wings. We just don’t know how to use them yet. But we will. We always do. We always learn.
I wish I had wings become then I could fly. Personally, I think flying symbolizes freedom. If I were to become an animal, I would choose to be a bird, maybe an eagle, because I have an image of them soaring in the sky in my mind. By flying, I could control my course, my destination, and ultimately, my destiny.
Wings. How apropos. Today my best friend spread his wings by going off to boot camp. He is becoming the person that he has always wanted to be and now nothing is going to stop him. I have never been so proud to have him in my life. His wings will carry him far.
If I had wings, I’d use them to soar above all the drama that surrounds me everyday and holds me to the Earth. All the negativity is bearing down on me, threatening to take all that keeps me sane.
I stand right at the edge of the cliff and look over. It’s a long, long way down.
If this doesn’t work, I’m dead.
But I am a risk taker, a thrill seeker. It doesn’t get more thrilling than this.
I back away from the edge, then run, run, and jump, opening my synthetic wings to catch the air.
Lyla ran off the top of her roof and her tiny purple wings bursted out of her sides. She winced with pain and a little blood slipped through. She glided through the night. Seeing her busy city below. She didn’t care if anyone noticed.
I wish I had wings. I could fly anywhere, anytime. Day or night.
I’d probably fly at night because that’s when the stars are out. It’d feel so nice.
To be that free.
Funny, I was just reading the Mortal Instruments Series. The second book. Wings just reminded me of angels and stuff, and angels and stuff remind me of the Mortal Instruments series. It’s fall time, I love it. Was that random? Sorry.
wings don’t flap in the wind. they soar. they glide and enjoy the ride.
I wonder if wings resent the absence of the wind, once it’s gone? as I do, when my bike hits a hill?
Soaring up from the edge of a cliff, a slow almost imperceptible down beat…. whoosh…. and then tuck them under and just glide on the wind, an earthscape below, wings
i wish i had wings, i wish i could fly HIGH IN THE SKY, AND SEE THINGS WITH A DIFFERENT EYE, I WISH I COULD FLY, SO VERY HIGH, AND TOUCH THE SKYYY that was some spongebob there, i hope you enjoyed that very much. birds have wings. pidgeys have wings. that’s a bird pokemon. did i mention i wanted wings? goodoh. planes have wings. but ofc not th same kind as birds. Articuno, zapdos, and moltres have wings. As do ho oh and lugia. So do latios and latias. These are all legendary pokemon with wings. My favourite is lugia.
Wings of steel
Wings of ice
Wings that change
Just like life
Ever flowing
Ever changing
Never staying the same
Wings that glide
Wings that guide
Wings that help you on your way
He had wings once. They were iridescent and a very light blue. When he was five, though, they fell off with his baby teeth; and his parents never spoke about them again. Sometimes he wondered if he had merely imagined them.
Things that carry you with the wind soaring above all else seeing people and cars as if they were ants ad rocks. When you have wings you, literally are, on top, of the world.
Her beautiful feathers spread out like across the sky like the love I had for her. But flying was her destiny, leaving was her path. So as her golden wings beat the thick air, and as she dissapeared into the lucent sun, I simply smiled.
I read this book about an angel that had wings that were the color of gold, red, orange, and all the colors were iridescent and absolutely gorgeous. I wish I could describe it as well as it was described in that book…
I regret to inform you that I cannot make it to your party. I have been struck down by some type of bird flu. It’s quite comical, really. Along with the continuous coughing and aching throat, a great pair of wings has erupted from my shoulder blades! I haven’t really tried to use them yet, as they are still fragile, but I was thinking of jumping over the Terminal Bridge downtown on Sunday to test them. Would you like to come join me? I’m sure it will be a spectacle to behold.
If Darwin is right and humans keep evolving, in the next stage will will have wings. Wings to get over mountains and cross oceans. Wing to cross borders. Wings so we can get high enough to reach our dreams… all the things we can’t seem to do now.
wings are ther in sea on air on bird an bat an fox an mare Pegasus-
rare we see the likes of her- no matter we’ll keep out the bright side
one day we just might get a ride–Oh jings! that really would be wings…
Ok?
Flying. Gosh, that’s always been one of the things I’ve always wanted to do. To have wings and fly. I have this thing with wings. I think they’re beautiful.
Also, side note, I’m listening to Black Eyed Peas and Fergie just said wings. Hehehe.
Anyways, flying and wings. Well, this is fitting. I’m going to college soon, So maybe this is saying I should just spread my wings… and fly?
I’d like to. I’d really like to just spread my wings, not be so awkward, and just fly fly fly away.
The wings sprung from my back allowing me to rid myself of the burden of walking. The prison of being trapped on the ground instead of flying free in the skies where I belonged. The sun on my face and the wind rushing through my wings.
The house has wings just like a jet. The west wing was a good show but even though Quagmire likes Wings I don’t believe it was a good show. The west wing of my house is full of leather bound books, and therefore smells of rich mahogany.
her wings spread throughout a soft timid experience i can embrace warmly. she is so beautiful she makes me cry. her angelic wings put me through an unforgettable dream.
She shuddered at the feeling of them opening, like something unholy sprouting from her very soul. She heard the whoosh of air being pushed out of the way as they rushed downwards, propelling her body into the sky.
it’ useless tryin’ to seem clever and it duzzin pay… no way.
Still, on occasion, i do dream of flying. It’ enjoyable while it goes right.
otherwise, well, butternut squash!
“I can fly! I can fly!”
I shouted joyfully
as I soared over my house
but then I remembered
I didn’t have wings
and for some reason that ended the dream
its very beautiful
hot
cool
yummy
small
full of bones
wingstreet wednesday
chicken
beef
pork
honey garlic
buffalo
salt and pepper
chill
sticky
saucy
small
If I had wings I wouldn’t have to deal with my failure to limp properly because of my awkwardly heightened proprioception that makes even regular walking a bit awkward.
tiny wings, big dreams. spread your wings and fly little birdie. dont be afraid to soar across the sky. just open and wings, and the rest will come. high above the sky, beautiful sight. just use your wings, use your wings
Gamzee thinks that Tavros is beautiful when he flies away. And he doesn’t regret letting him leave. As long as he’s happy, Gamzee thinks. As long as he doesn’t have to live here where everything is so wrong and dark.
Because Tavros is a point of light, and the light deserves a place where everything goes right and Pupa Pan can fly.
So when Tav flies, Gamzee is happy.
It could not have been a more perfect day. I remember it vividly. It was the third Sunday in July. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I had angus burgers and wings cooking on the grill; an ice cold beer in my hands as I turned the wings and flipped the burgers. And then he showed up. I could have understood had he been her ex, but he wasn’t, at least according to him. He said he was still my wife’s husband and I don’t really remember much after that.
Flying is an overrated superpower. I would much rather be like Magneato and have the ability to move metal with my mind. Or anything besides flying really. So my one superpower I am just saying won’t be flying.
So, if I groe wing… I could escape. I could fly in grace, I could feel the cold, icy wind in my hair. I could breathe for once in my life, I could feel inmense love for the one I least expect. I could fly, I could feel free. I could feel beautiful, I could feel dashing. I could try to fix myself.
They are the things we need to fly. In life. To do what we want. Because, you know what, Humans do have wings. We just don’t know how to use them yet. But we will. We always do. We always learn.
she eases into her worry, slowly; a pile of cloth on the floor that she steps into, pulls up over her body, as if it were an evening dress;
I wish I had wings become then I could fly. Personally, I think flying symbolizes freedom. If I were to become an animal, I would choose to be a bird, maybe an eagle, because I have an image of them soaring in the sky in my mind. By flying, I could control my course, my destination, and ultimately, my destiny.
Wings. How apropos. Today my best friend spread his wings by going off to boot camp. He is becoming the person that he has always wanted to be and now nothing is going to stop him. I have never been so proud to have him in my life. His wings will carry him far.
If I had wings, I’d use them to soar above all the drama that surrounds me everyday and holds me to the Earth. All the negativity is bearing down on me, threatening to take all that keeps me sane.
I stand right at the edge of the cliff and look over. It’s a long, long way down.
If this doesn’t work, I’m dead.
But I am a risk taker, a thrill seeker. It doesn’t get more thrilling than this.
I back away from the edge, then run, run, and jump, opening my synthetic wings to catch the air.
Lyla ran off the top of her roof and her tiny purple wings bursted out of her sides. She winced with pain and a little blood slipped through. She glided through the night. Seeing her busy city below. She didn’t care if anyone noticed.
I wish I had wings. I could fly anywhere, anytime. Day or night.
I’d probably fly at night because that’s when the stars are out. It’d feel so nice.
To be that free.
Funny, I was just reading the Mortal Instruments Series. The second book. Wings just reminded me of angels and stuff, and angels and stuff remind me of the Mortal Instruments series. It’s fall time, I love it. Was that random? Sorry.
wings don’t flap in the wind. they soar. they glide and enjoy the ride.
I wonder if wings resent the absence of the wind, once it’s gone? as I do, when my bike hits a hill?
Soaring up from the edge of a cliff, a slow almost imperceptible down beat…. whoosh…. and then tuck them under and just glide on the wind, an earthscape below, wings
i wish i had wings, i wish i could fly HIGH IN THE SKY, AND SEE THINGS WITH A DIFFERENT EYE, I WISH I COULD FLY, SO VERY HIGH, AND TOUCH THE SKYYY that was some spongebob there, i hope you enjoyed that very much. birds have wings. pidgeys have wings. that’s a bird pokemon. did i mention i wanted wings? goodoh. planes have wings. but ofc not th same kind as birds. Articuno, zapdos, and moltres have wings. As do ho oh and lugia. So do latios and latias. These are all legendary pokemon with wings. My favourite is lugia.
Wings of steel
Wings of ice
Wings that change
Just like life
Ever flowing
Ever changing
Never staying the same
Wings that glide
Wings that guide
Wings that help you on your way
He had wings once. They were iridescent and a very light blue. When he was five, though, they fell off with his baby teeth; and his parents never spoke about them again. Sometimes he wondered if he had merely imagined them.
Things that carry you with the wind soaring above all else seeing people and cars as if they were ants ad rocks. When you have wings you, literally are, on top, of the world.
Her beautiful feathers spread out like across the sky like the love I had for her. But flying was her destiny, leaving was her path. So as her golden wings beat the thick air, and as she dissapeared into the lucent sun, I simply smiled.
I read this book about an angel that had wings that were the color of gold, red, orange, and all the colors were iridescent and absolutely gorgeous. I wish I could describe it as well as it was described in that book…
Dear Thylacine,
I regret to inform you that I cannot make it to your party. I have been struck down by some type of bird flu. It’s quite comical, really. Along with the continuous coughing and aching throat, a great pair of wings has erupted from my shoulder blades! I haven’t really tried to use them yet, as they are still fragile, but I was thinking of jumping over the Terminal Bridge downtown on Sunday to test them. Would you like to come join me? I’m sure it will be a spectacle to behold.
Best Wishes,
Heliocanth
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If Darwin is right and humans keep evolving, in the next stage will will have wings. Wings to get over mountains and cross oceans. Wing to cross borders. Wings so we can get high enough to reach our dreams… all the things we can’t seem to do now.
wings are ther in sea on air on bird an bat an fox an mare Pegasus-
rare we see the likes of her- no matter we’ll keep out the bright side
one day we just might get a ride–Oh jings! that really would be wings…
Ok?
Flying. Gosh, that’s always been one of the things I’ve always wanted to do. To have wings and fly. I have this thing with wings. I think they’re beautiful.
Also, side note, I’m listening to Black Eyed Peas and Fergie just said wings. Hehehe.
Anyways, flying and wings. Well, this is fitting. I’m going to college soon, So maybe this is saying I should just spread my wings… and fly?
I’d like to. I’d really like to just spread my wings, not be so awkward, and just fly fly fly away.
The wings sprung from my back allowing me to rid myself of the burden of walking. The prison of being trapped on the ground instead of flying free in the skies where I belonged. The sun on my face and the wind rushing through my wings.
The house has wings just like a jet. The west wing was a good show but even though Quagmire likes Wings I don’t believe it was a good show. The west wing of my house is full of leather bound books, and therefore smells of rich mahogany.
her wings spread throughout a soft timid experience i can embrace warmly. she is so beautiful she makes me cry. her angelic wings put me through an unforgettable dream.
She shuddered at the feeling of them opening, like something unholy sprouting from her very soul. She heard the whoosh of air being pushed out of the way as they rushed downwards, propelling her body into the sky.
mmmmmmm….a plague of women……
it’ useless tryin’ to seem clever and it duzzin pay… no way.
Still, on occasion, i do dream of flying. It’ enjoyable while it goes right.
otherwise, well, butternut squash!
“I can fly! I can fly!”
I shouted joyfully
as I soared over my house
but then I remembered
I didn’t have wings
and for some reason that ended the dream
its very beautiful
hot
cool
yummy
small
full of bones
wingstreet wednesday
chicken
beef
pork
honey garlic
buffalo
salt and pepper
chill
sticky
saucy
small
If I had wings I wouldn’t have to deal with my failure to limp properly because of my awkwardly heightened proprioception that makes even regular walking a bit awkward.
tiny wings, big dreams. spread your wings and fly little birdie. dont be afraid to soar across the sky. just open and wings, and the rest will come. high above the sky, beautiful sight. just use your wings, use your wings
I love buffalo wings.
Sweet and tangy.
Hot and spicy.
Terriyaki, honey barbeque, butter garlic.
Its all delicious.
Gamzee thinks that Tavros is beautiful when he flies away. And he doesn’t regret letting him leave. As long as he’s happy, Gamzee thinks. As long as he doesn’t have to live here where everything is so wrong and dark.
Because Tavros is a point of light, and the light deserves a place where everything goes right and Pupa Pan can fly.
So when Tav flies, Gamzee is happy.
It could not have been a more perfect day. I remember it vividly. It was the third Sunday in July. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I had angus burgers and wings cooking on the grill; an ice cold beer in my hands as I turned the wings and flipped the burgers. And then he showed up. I could have understood had he been her ex, but he wasn’t, at least according to him. He said he was still my wife’s husband and I don’t really remember much after that.
Wings are fluttering against the bars, the feathers – snowy and soft – singing softly against the metal. The angel sits, defeated.
Leave. Eat. Fly. Soar. Breath. EAT….yummy.
It was my solitary prayer for the longest time. I wished to sprout wings, like the angels, and fly far, far away.