Burnt the wing...burnt it bad...
Dearest, dearest, Mr. J. How I've forgotten the solace you once brought my aching soul. My love for you has brought me back to the place of my younger years. Where I smoked cigarettes, and threw insults upon your ever beckoning and understanding binary ears.
I sit here now, marveling at the fact that you still exist.
I sit with greying temples, and a young offspring.
I set the sun in my aim, and flew too high. On my descent, I've made and done some beautiful things, and am shielding my face from the ground below. Hoping my arms will give themselves to cause of saving the rest of me.
I tell you when I reach the bottom, hopefully it'll be river that will swallow me whole. And I'll float to a better place.
I can only hope.
But, it's late. And you've got your life ahead of you starting now.