If it is a prose poem, I can write one instead, depending on the number of words needed.
If I had wings
I was awakened from my dream by the insects in summer, and there were still tears on my pillow last night. If I have a pair of wings, I want to fly out of the closed fence and see the flowing clouds all over the sky. I wonder if it can remember me yesterday.
Along the familiar street, I listened to my footsteps ticking alone, but I got lost in the cold rain lane. I want to fly out of this Millennium and walk into that long-lost memory. There, I can still hear the local accent and smell the fragrance that can only be immersed in remembrance. If I have wings, I want to escape from this sad and confused city, dance in the cold moonlight and look for shadows.