I see the raven, high in the the sky, And say to myself, "Boy I wish I could fly". But I’ve stubby short arms, and I'm reasonably round. To be fair, I could probably lose a few pounds. Try as I might, I can't take to the air. Maybe I have to develop some flair. So I climbed a rock that I saw nearby. I'm not meant to fly, but damn I will try! I jumped from the rock with all my might, And found that I couldn't fly from that height. So, I climbed the highest hill I could find. My resolve was set and clear was my mind. I had crafted a chute of linen and rope. My head was spinning, I could hardly cope. I fell from the mountain, soaring the sky. I was sharing the clouds with those who could fly! I soon heard a sound that I didn't love. My parachute failed me, linen ripping above! Suddenly I flew incredibly fast, Downwards; this wasn't going to last! I hit the dirt with a mighty thud, I was hurt, my mouth oozing with blood. I laid there broken, helpless, alone. My life was leaving me, and was nearly gone. I was saved by a beautiful woman in white. She healed me after my unfortunate flight. As she turned to leave, I called out her name: "Please lend me a hand, or I'll just try the same!". Without a word she extended her arms, And my body was instantly filled with warmth. Suddenly, my feet no more touched the ground. I was hovering mid air, not making a sound. I ran through the village, shouting with glee. For the first time in my life really feeling free. Will I ever truly fly? I ...