The hot air balloon had weights
Of which held it to the ground
Like a magnet in a crowd of iron
Until the sands with the wind blew
And the gas from the fuel injected
Hot air into the lungs of destiny
Higher and higher slowly it rose
Throwing off the soul, of holds
Into the sky it rose higher
The soul, the weight
Until the carriage was then swung
Unhitched and only the balloon left
The earth, no weight to halt the ascent
Forevermore.
Christopher Baird 2011 ©
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