My wings won’t work, I push on them but I can’t make them move. I’ll never leave my tree again.
I’m looking out at the world and I see so much beauty I’ll never experience.
I’ll never touch the top of that mountain, I’ll never feel the freeing wind as I fly to it.
I’m stranded here, but it’s okay. I’m glad to exist in such a place.
I’ll die soon enough, like everything does. But until my last breath, I’ll be happy. All around me there are trees and clouds and stars, flowers, laughing children, smiling lovers. I’m glad.