the child sits silent on the edge of his chair -
contemplates the azure sky pictured on the glass,
and scratches uncertainly his sable hair.
wondering how high it lies,
he reaches up to grasp its frame,
and touches nothing but its whispered sighs.
the youth climbs wild to the top of his roof -
turns his eyes heavenward,
gathers hope to find the proof
for substance in men's dreams.
but his hands find naught but air,
and in his wet eyes, melancholy gleams.
the young man attains quick the highest station -
for he was of quick wit,
and boundless imagination.
in the city he finds the tallest building,
from where he might finally accomplish
his innocent childhood's longing.
the man, so desirous of flight,
and insurmountable height,
seats the rocket-plane,
all the while extending,
his arms to lengths unending,
turns back to find that sky -
once beyond the glass,
bright beneath his ass.
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