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Co, Camille Ira


March 9, 2015
For his wings delicate, precious.

Another Poem About The Boy With Wings

It is the story known by all,
The story of the fateful fall
To escape was what he wanted,
With hope that death not be granted.
The sky was blue and clear and calm,
The moment theyve wanted to come.
Everything was set and done,
One last knot, and then hell be gone.
Off the edge and into the air,
With the wind combing through his hair.
Left with warnings to be cautious,

Happy was he to see the light,

Though no one turned to see his flight.
People going about their things,
While this boy, cries and screams he brings.
There he lay washed up on the sea,
As motionless as dead could be.
No one but three nymphs by his side,
To sing, to hold do they abide.
Oh, Icarus, how people judged
Your ignorance and how you plunged.
But, Icarus, you also taught
Brave people risk before they rot.