I was tiny
When I took off
The projectile
Induced
The momentum
Of freedom
And thought.
I reached
The zenith
Or rather
Wished to…
Before I could pierce through
The cloud
Perch on the
Rainbow
Slide down
To the pot
Of Gold.
The gravity
Got the
Better of me…
The projectile
Descended
Mid way…
Was it a
Descend or
A drop
Down the
Cliff of
Destiny…?
Midway then,
I found a branch
A tree wavering
Yet standing
Not so tall…
I held on
For dear life
And prayed
For yet another fall.
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