The clouds try to sell me imagined futures,
but the soil beneath my feet says otherwise.

I stretch my wings, only to scrape the sky.
The silver linings obnoxiously tease,
quickly drifting out of reach.

My eyes seek reassurance,
but catch only empty longings of the heart.

Breaking the lens of illusions.
Quiet and loyal, gravity steads me,
pulling me back when I wander.

Not to give up flight,
but to return to something firm.

Grounded.