sjsprWriting

They had been beaten and broken, to the point of being black and blue. Her beautiful and brightly colored wings were shattered for only moments but with quick company they came anew. She rose back up with her newly repaired wings and there was no stopping her from fluttering them. She was showered with attention from her newly formed freedom, yet paying no attention to what shattered her in the first place. They would shatter again, without question and it would continue to be her disability. Her life was a constant cycle. Her wings were formed, they would break, but by the same force that knocked her down, they would be renewed and then her own personal metamorphosis would repeat.