The children don't understand.
The sweets they pine for are not squeezed from the machine with stripes intact. No—they must be painted on, by hand, with so much care. It is almost unimaginable, the
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Whirring wings with rushing engines
Daring squawk towards the dashing object
Why are you angry at something far away?
You won’t reach it
It’s far
Too quick
Rejection, failures, goals out of reach
I wail for successes to come to me
My dreams are far
People are too quick
I can’t reach the prize
What about my own wings?
Daring squawk towards the dashing object
Why are you angry at something far away?
You won’t reach it
It’s far
Too quick
Rejection, failures, goals out of reach
I wail for successes to come to me
My dreams are far
People are too quick
I can’t reach the prize
What about my own wings?