Grounded

Some days I fly,

So free, so high.

Then doubt strikes like lightning straight through the sky.

I find myself tumbling, so fast but I try

To cry for help, but it all comes out dry.

My anxiety so heavy it anchors me down.

Pulling me so far, I fear I might drown.

But fear as I might I still end up dry.

And all I can do is continue to try

To make my way up, back into the sky.

But most days, I keep my eyes looking up high,

Waiting and hoping for my next chance to fly.