Flying High

If you’re not flying high

you’re doing it wrong,

said he, as he threw me

on the ground.

Some eons ago he had instilled in me,

the nature, the values, beliefs to fly.

It was the time when i had known,

which bridges i needed to burn.

Now buried i am, nothing in hand,

as i gaze upon a vast gray earth,

and there he is, same yet changed,

looking down on me, in surplus dearth.

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