To glide across mellow orange rivers,
touching sunset's gentle digits,
the wind free and wailing through my hair,
landscapes below fleeing in despair,
feels like diving in free-fall,
with cloudy barriers, mountains tall,
reaching high above us all.
To burn with hope and hesitation,
tumbling free down self-resignation,
striving for every good day to come,
surviving every bad day that's begun,
is to hold and charish, love yourself,
that you tried even the hardest book on the shelf,
of emotions recorded ever since you were born.
Until I grow my wings,
and maturity hits me,
to glide on morning's strings,
will be a dream,
to stay forever here with me.
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