Ten thousand feet above the earth,
Am cruising across my nation of birth.
But am flying without wings,
Hoping not to fall into this sink
Of frozen land- encapsulated in icy crusts,
With no trace of vegetation growing from those golden dusts.
The land is been licked by years of drought
Sucking the life out of this thirsty terrain but without a doubt,
Those crooked roads have been sewed by unskilled hands.
So I wish I was a tailor,
Then maybe I could stitch a perfect gown to cover her,
Cause I hate to see her naked, I’ll make it out of silk or fur?
It will fit her perfectly from head to toe,
so that this blue dirac with white stars can be as elegant as her rivers flow.
I wish I was a Florist,
Then maybe I could plant seas of flourishing flowers,
So she can smell them and keep it next to her wardrobe,
Or maybe make a scented perfume that attracts the globe.
I wish I was an architect,
Then maybe I could build skyscrapers as tall as her,
Let her touch the sky or gaze at the sunset; whichever she would prefer?
Just because she isn’t in the “world beauty pageant” doesn’t mean just can’t enter
And just because she lacks in knowledge doesn’t mean she can’t be an inventor!
So back to reality! I ponder on how these things can be conquered,
Buts it’s one thing between dreaming and achieving,
Between acting and sleeping,
Between speaking and thinking,
So go ahead! and fly without wings, but don’t forget take her with you,
Because she’s the one that will catch you when you fall to be nurtured, care for and turn to!
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