If I could fly,
I wouldn't do it everyday.
I wouldn't try to soar so high,
To have it always recognized...
Heights to soar and fly,
Was a doing I only chose to do.
Like birds with wings that rest in nests.
I would seek another interest to accept.
I would want more than just to fly.
I would want,
Other things to try.
With a wanting as days go by,
To live discovering other interests...
I could do as well if I so choose,
Regardless if that interest isn't recognized,
As long as my interest in it is kept.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem