am i broken if i choose not to fly?
these wings weren’t made for a broken butterfly,
translucent shimmering strands of silk
to adorn the beauty of a reigning monarch,
the caterpillar on the ground shies away from flying.
society’s standards push us out of our nest
to watch us fly –
it is the inevitable for every human to fly
because that is what we are meant to do.
but is it wrong to not want to fly?
i would rather crawl on the ground instead,
living the simple life,
content with what i hold inside me
and what i do with the people around me.
rather than surrounding myself with riches,
i wish to surround myself with nature,
sink deep below the grounds of avarice
and emerge in the spring of fresh air.
but society pushes me forward relentlessly,
it holds a knife to my throat –
a line of blood trickles down tanned skin –
my struggle is futile.
ambition, do i lack this?
no, i dream too much and think too much,
but my dreams cross the bounds of society’s limits
and my thoughts defy society’s expectations,
i am the outsider.
society binds me up and chains me to tiles
of expectations and expected routes.
i can’t escape.
but is it so wrong to not want to fly?