Clipped Wings

Here's a short poem I wrote recently:

She calls me her angel, yet I'm unable to fly,

I'll always be longing, to touch that night sky,

My life's always complicated, Oh how I ask "why?"

Don't care for the solemn things, now let's all get high.

I wander 'till my feet ache, and speaketh my mind,

No stepping back, spread that good vibe,

All the while wondering, "my time will be nigh",

She calls me her angel, yet I'm unable to fly.