I climb up this tree
And want to fly away
But I have no wings,
Just millions of hairy feet
Every one who is anyone is flying above
Pointing, jeering at the only one who dose not fly
I stare at the clouds wanting ,dreaming to be within them
But I can't I'm stuck here on the ground
I want so badly to be with the beautiful
To soar on out-stretched wings
So I change my look my attitude my voice my friends
I make two plastic superficial extinctions
That pose as colorful wings
I escalate on a burst of wind
Sailing next to the beautiful
The one's that seamed so high were only a few feet from where I once lie
I look to the clouds they seem still far away
I look at the beautiful the ones I thought where so wonderful high and mighty
Bags under their eyes
They dream about a life I once had
The one with fury feet among the trees
They question why I was so quick to change my style to get a life of superficial wings
I doubted myself
I had made a mistake
I float down on that same burst of wind
My hairy feet meeting the earth
My friends that I abandoned for a life of plastic greeted me
They asked "how was it were the clouds beautiful were their wings colorful how did the wind feel"
I could not answer I felt nothing
I pondered what I had imagined at first
"I was not myself," I finally answered
"The clouds are more beautiful here
With my true friends
Then three feet higher with plastic wings"