Nowhere To Go

No one yet has been born blessed.
To experience life to them given.
With all there is to adventure and explore.
But somehow reluctant,
To be encouraged to do this anymore.

'How and why do birds fly?'

Unless they were limited to be taught.
And it to teach,
A thinking done to do independently...
Should not be the purpose and reason,
Their mind alone to use...
Is not within them,
Kept to keep this ability.

Too many grow to be persuaded,
To do what they are told.
And should wish to want to be accepted.
Approved.
Following to choose what others do.
Making a life to live more gratifying.
Without attempting to satisfy,
Their own dreams to come true.

And too many have done this.
With a doing to have their own dreams,
Deferred.
Later to create and make,
Excuses from themselves.
As if this to do others rather prefer.

So...
They live to accept limits.
Fed to feed from others,
An abundance of ignorance.
With a doing to disregard,
Or witness it to observe...
Themselves to be left mentally restricted.
As if birds with wings.
Unable to understand,
Or comprehend...
Why God blessed them to have them used.
With a blaming to claim,
There is nowhere for them to go.
Left feeling neglected and abused.

Even though...
Up and around them,
Much of their lives to live...
They witness to observe,
Flying birds.
Adventuring to explore.

'What are the purpose for MY wings?'

'Who knows.
But one thing is certain,
Made to believe and kept known.
None of us are birds.'

'But...?'

'No buts or ifs to wonder about it.
Like I said...
None of us are birds!
Or born to use are minds to fly!'