Wings

I plan to be free
and to fly. 
Up in the sky 
where the moon's gently crying.


I want 
to be able 
to touch with my hands
little star.


I drew 
little picture
of wings that I made 
out of brass.


I crafted 
the pair
of wings
in my mind.


I went 
to the hill.
There I could see
all the sky and the stars.


I have attached then
those wings 
to my back 
with some nails.


I spread then
my wings
and attempted 
to fly.


And I flew 
for a moment...
adoring 
the bright little star in the sky.