I've always wondered
What it would be like to fly
Would you be able to touch the clouds
Maybe wander the stars?
Touch the clouds,
Soft and fluffy,
Like the innocence of a child's dream
Or would they be the foreboding ominous type
The kind that warns of storm and trouble?

I often stare out my window,
Caught in a daydream.
Yet also running,
Terrified because of a nightmare.

The curiosity,
It swells within me.
Questions I incessantly ask,
Persisting others for an answer,
Answers I know I won't find.

Ah well,
I am happy,
Though I'd still like to fly.
Perhaps one day,
I'll reach my final dream.

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