Fly High! RDP: Sunday

Can’t is a word that I often said.

Can’t is a word that was stuck in my head.

Can’t was a cop-out,

A way to get by,

While letting life,

Pass me right by.

But what if I could,

Asks the engine inside.

What if I found,

I could no longer hide?

Then what would happen?

Would I look up at the sky?

Would I grab the opportunities

That were passing me by?

Would I fly like an eagle,

Or soar like a bird?

Or would I be afraid

They would think I’m absurd?

But if I’m like a bird

I belong in the sky.

Not stuck on the ground,

So eager to fly.

My wings are not broken,

They’re simply afraid,

But now I must try

For what I was made.