Community Poems – Please share your poems › Flame to Pain
When birds fly,
They do not soar.
We look up and see them soaring.
We soar, and yet we are.
I am soaring, and yet..
Others are plummeting.
They plummet and yet they were.
They may not move, but the ground comes up to meet them fast.
When I am soaring and I see the falling, do I swoop down?
Will I die plummeting, as I stop soaring, just so the ground can stop moving so fast?
From my height I can see all the animals of the realm.
Yet from my height, I am alone.
Soaring can be cold, so I keep moving.
Falling up and falling down are similar.
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