Luke Poem by Zena Blank

Little duckling
awkward and flightless
try as he might
he cannot gain years fast enough
he want to fly
to flourish and fulfil his dream
only time's cruel bars hold him back
he is grounded to a world of cold and damp
as night encroaches
he gazes up at the stars
escape being his only thought
his only true desire
to break free of his daily hell
his life of lies
. . .
when that little ducking grew up
he not only flew
he soared.
past the trenches
over the mountains
above volcanoes
through the clouds
he flew past the hate
never looked back
never acknowledged the ignorance
he soared past
straight to freedom
this little duckling
who fought long and hard
spent sleepless nights in the damp cold
conquered all.