Kites

Higher into the inviting sky,

I am carried by the winds

Climbing, ascending, reaching,

In a glint of dazzling colour...

But someone holds the string

That anchors me to the ground,

And keeps me safe

Yet fettered.

The winds, they pull,

Then push and shove

And try to whisk me away

To places unknown, undiscovered...

But the cord holds firm

And while I'm secretly glad,

I wish for just one moment

That I could fly away.