Even though i found my body happily smiling each morning,
There is something missing.
I pluck my sorrow on a daytime;
After then i nail it into my roof;
And spring them into the air;
Throw them into the sea;
Until it become free in the air;
Because each time i learn how to fly with feathers;
My body dwells with tranquility;
Until then i still spin in earth;
Until then am still learning;
Learning to know where i came from;
And learning how to fly with feather and embracing felicities.
Original poem written by: Nosakhare Collins © 2017