Like feathers

Ever feel like...

everything you ever wanted is there,
right in your hand
Its light as a feather. The lightest ever.
And you grip it very tight so it wouldn't fly away. 

But you also have the things that you hate, and held it in your other hand

Its sticky, like the times you accidentally touch undry glue

Oh, you tried shake it off, flapping your hand up and down

It wont come off. Stuck.

you began collecting all the things you want
and try to get rid the things you don't

one hand open, one hand closed

the more you have the feathers, 

the easier it is for it to fly away

one feather flew, you grief upon

reaching for it, another one goes

Then you have none.

But full of sticky stuff on the other hand

Amelia