Flight

Who said you could stand up?
Who said you could fly?
I am afraid to fly,
of being shot not knowing why.

So I try to lay low.
Lower than the eyes.
Of those who abore
those who seem to be more.

I know I am so much more.
I know I can fly.

But I can not flap my wings,
not until I am totally sure.
I'm not sure whether
I or the bullets will be faster.

So I wait.
I wait for the time.

Practicing each step.
I fly at night, in my dreams.
But at day I am just
somebody with nobody to trust.

How many days left until I die?
How many days left until I fly?

By the time I spread my wings
I will be left with nothing.
Nothing to leave behind
but love for every kind.

The day I fly
will probably be the day I die.