Random

The sky shoots bright yellow rays

I'd like to be apart of the blue some days

The birds enjoy soaring  up and through

The feeling of freedom must be too good to be true

Or maybe the planes they feel mighty and like the center of attention

All the clouds want to get  a feel of the flight and have recognition

Maybe the trees love the gusts of wind

They probably hope the breeze never ends

Then there's me down below looking high above

Wishing and awaiting to turn into a beautful dove

 

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