Day 8. If only we could

Misty hills and vales
Stepping to the horizon
We wish we could fly.

And if we could fly
Would we escape to the sky
And soar way up high

Maybe we would flee
To another world of glee
The joy to be free

If we could just fly
What else could there be to spy
Above that white mist.

Search the horizon
But what if the earth is flat
We fall off the edge.

Life choices are ours
To dream of different times
Could, should or would we?

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, July Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’

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