I am a kite,
I have bright colors,
a big smile
and a long loose tail.
When the wind strikes me,
the string pulls tighter
and I rise high into the sky...
I feel free.
Funny paradox:
the string which holds me
maintains it's grip,
but I hover in my illusion...
I am happy at the heights,
my smile twirls in the wind,
I dance pirouetting around,
my tail is snaking in the air.
Then, I feel a tug,
the string pulls me down!
I don’t want to go lower,
but there’s no choice!
I leave the sky,
I leave my dream,
an inevitable descent,
I surrender...
Touching the ground upside down,
my smile is reversed,
the expression is the opposite one,
and my tail is now whipping the lawn.
That ambiguous string!
Now, I can understand the game:
it deceives me and governs me.
Damn snare!
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