Why Can't I Fly?

Why can’t I fly?

I feel as if I spread my arms and try

I would take off, and I’d never feel the drain of blood

looking down from a ledge up high

I would be as free, fearless, and

adventurous as a pilot braving the Atlantic

Free from the chains forged by gravity

or any explanation too semantic

I’d burst into the air

So high that when I land, I’ll be standing there

in front of your door in perhaps two hours, maybe less

and it’ll be night, and I’ll ask you where

the stars shine the brightest.

Like the old days, we’ll find our own little corner

where nobody else seems to see us

and speak with candor

and admire the lights.

Little by little, the cracks will disappear

and my heart will soar once again, like it used to

when you were still near.