Once, I could fly,
But my wings were clipped.
Grounded, for years,
But slowly, I await
The return of my wings.
They start to grow back.
I can hover now.
But gravity still rules me.
Holding me down,
Teasing an ascent.
My altitude's low,
But I look up.
Remembering the height,
The thin air,
The freedom.
And I try to grow my wings.
Willing them to be longer.
But alas, no nugget.
They grow slowly and surely,
But no more than that.
I'll stay low for now.
But soon, low won't rock.
Clouds will remember me.
Limits will break.
I'll return to the top.
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