Higher On his own feet Man could ascend, But happiness could not pretend, Thus his effort would extend And to no end. The highest hills He could aspire, But refusing to retire, Driven by internal fire, He climbs higher. He pressed his hand Against the stars, Knowing then he had gone far, His victory he would not mar, He wouldn’t raise the bar. His world indeed Had grown, From standing up to having flown, But no changes had been sown, Since all of mankind still threw stones.
the poem reflects a great deal more experience than you could possibly have, way to go! peace, joy and the thrill of creativity Honor
