A boy holds three red balloons
And fills them with their lightest heart
Leave nothing behind,
They are all into that sorry hope,
Fly.
Fall.
Again.
Shift.
Where will it go?
He knows.
He sees
But the bones in his feet wont shift,
Other than pivoting around in an endless circle.
He knows the end of this.
He has done it before.
The end is his flightless feet pulling someone,
Someone greater down.
