Being a Kite

I was made from scratch
Which didn’t care if everything was a mismatch
My body was made up of sticks that are tied together
And my skin was beautified with random newspapers

Somehow kids see my beauty when I’m up in the sky
Gazing different shaped clouds while my friends wave goodbye
But still I couldn’t fly high because of a string attached
Each time I fly the farthest , someone would pull it,then the other would catch

Oh , the wind makes me dance with rhythm
Up above is where I feel my inner freedom
Wishing the dark clouds won’t stop me when it rains
Time I would fall, and will never be whole again

When it happens ,will a friend try to catch me
Or let me be in the rain, till I am no longer to see
Will someone try to tie my sticks together
And help me bring back my skin by gluing my torn newspapers.

Somehow I love being a kite
I would reach the heaven and out of sight
But I shouldn’t forget the string that pulls me
It can be detached and make things temporary

Should I stay being pulled back
Or be released to discover my tracks
Life on earth is quite mysterious
We can’t control everything in life we chose

“Being a Kite”


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