My wings weren’t broken
My wings were fine
But I prevented myself
from learning the joy of flight

I kept myself grounded
I fretted, I worried
about what may happen
if I tried to fly

“I’ll fall out of the sky.”
“I can’t fly! I’ll crash! ”
“I can’t try, I’ll fail.”
“I can’t, because I’m afraid.”

I can’t
I can’t
I can’t
I won’t

But then I opened my wings one day
curious as to what would occur.
I was sure something bad would happen,
but nothing did.

I became accustomed to my wings.
I wasn’t as afraid of them
as I was before.
But I still wouldn’t fly.

I was afraid of failure.
I was afraid of how much
failure would affect me.
I didn’t want to fail.

But I was sure I would.
Though I had accepted my wings,
I still didn’t trust them.
I didn’t trust myself.

I might fail.
I might fail!
I might fail!
I might not.

I started thinking about flight in extremes:
success or failure
but one day, I was confident I could fly
I flew

I flew
I flew!
I flew!
I fell.

After experiencing flight, I experienced my fear:
failure.
But instead of being upset at failure
I reveled in the joy of newfound flight

I didn’t care that I had failed
I found the thing I had craved:
freedom!
Flight!