We Grew Up

I've seen kids fly.
I've watched them jump
with their little arms out--

Watched them soar
through the sky;
touching the clouds
as they pass by.

When did we stop trying to fly?

And when they land back on earth,
they smile--some cry
their little hands scratched red.

But always they get back up;
always try, try again.

When did we stop trying after we fell?

I've heard kids talk about the clouds--
soft as cotton, breezing across the blue
the blue, as white as white can be.

When did we start to ignore the clouds?
When did they become nothing but mist in our minds?

We stopped when falling began to hurt.
When our attempt to fly?
Made us fall short.

We ignored it when
our dreams of the sky grew black.
Like clouds before the storm
Our dreams of the blue?
They faded to gray.

The stars became gassy,
fiery masses,
the clouds, condensation.

We grew up
And it sucked.