Wanting to fly while both feet are stuck on the ground.
Bounded to the ground by gravity and responsibility.
Wanting to escape while looking at the sky.
The clouds almost seem within reach.
Birds flying over him seem to inspire and mock.
“Fly high, fly high,” They say as they fly.
Running is close, but only lasts for a few moments.
The air rushing past is not the same as the air up there.
Too many things that have to be done.
Too much making me grounded.
If I could travel.
If I could fly.
I would leave and never come back.
Header Photo Credit to Danielle Blue on Flickr
https://www.flickr.com/photos/science-girl/5960888557/
Allen The Writer 