Decaf Wings

How can you be a bird that cannot fly?

Maybe you’re too chicken to take the sky.

But can any of the other birds fish?

Could it be their wings that cursed the ground?

And if they lost them,

Would they live?

When the sky becomes crowded,

What will they do?

Have they ever felt the crack of the brisk winter wind?

And god forbid they take a dive.

Maybe it’s good that I can’t fly.

Ill take my will to do more than tread in deep water.

Where’s the fun in the sky?

There’s no surprise.

No more jumps after the first one.

And when the storm comes in,

It’s so easy to run.

When you see it all,

The only excitement is in disaster.

I could never imagine growing,

If I were never truly able to fall.

So I’ll take my decaf wings,

And embrace the ground,

Just so I could sip my tea,

When it all falls down.

And even still,

With their lofty wings,

It’s the grounded bird,

That will reign as king.