A boy with his kite

On the top of a hill stands a boy with his kite
And the wind takes it high as he pulls the line tight
How the kite twists and turns as if running away
But still tied by the line to the boy it must stay

Every day to the hill that same boy he returned
Though the kite climbed so high it was freedom it yearned
"Let me loose from this line and I'll soar with the birds"
Cried the kite to the wind but the wind never heard

But the line became frayed and it parted one day
In a strong gust of wind so the kite flew away
How the kite soared and turned for a while it was free
But alone and unguided it crashed in a tree

The boy he grew up and became a fine man
Then one day he returned to that hill, there he stands
Just reflecting on how he is tied to his job
To the mortgage, his wife and the kids and the dog

With the wind in his face and the rain in his eyes
He shouts "Damn you I'm tired of this life and it's ties
If I could escape I'd be free as a bird"
Cried the man to the wind but the wind never heard

As he started to run something came into sight
In the branch of a tree the remains of a kite
And he realised then that to run was no help
Being free's not enough, kites can't fly by themselves

Now on top of the hill stands a man with his kite
And the wind takes it high as he pulls the line tight
How the kite twists and turns as if running away
But still tied by the line to the man it must stay

Chris Flegg September 2007