Fly High (A Poem)


As the bird flies,

part of my heart dies,

because I suddenly realize,

that may never be me;

at least not physically,

as I do believe I will fly,

although my wings never grew,

and I cannot jump that high,

I will nonetheless…be able to fly

and quite high,

without a passerby,

just soaring through the universe,

no money in a purse,

singing verse after verse,

flying, soaring, happily and free,

ONE day, that will be me.

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