The Flight

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You are a caged bird. A redbird or a jay. A key dangles from your owner's neck, as he brings you seed each day. You belong in the sky, where you can soar without a care, instead you ponder behind iron bars. No one said the world was fair. Every now and then, you are set free, just for a little while. So tie up your shoes, pull up your hair, and begin your cross-country mile. The gun goes off, Your pace is fine, But the wind, The fierce wind blows. Extend your arms. Pick up your feet. Go as far as you can go. But the wind, The unrelenting, nasty wind, Fights back and knocks you down. Hold back your tears, Just dust your knees, And get up off the ground. No need for guns. Don't drag your feet, Just march on, Head held high. Your advantage in life's battles: You are stronger, You can fly.

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