The longer things are left in the air,
The harder they hit the ground,
And I’ve been juggling this for too long,
Running back and forth,
Exhausting myself without gain.

Why do I continue the hollow act,
Of catching these glass sparrows,
And returning them to the sky, flightless?
If I simply walk away,
And let it all come crashing down,
Would it hurt me?

Even if they tried to spread their wings,
They would shatter entirely,
Filling the air with glistening shards.
While impressive to look at,
Their abilities have been stripped away,
Forgotten in the pursuit of vanity.
They can rely only on me,
And others like me,
To keep them flying.

That must be the reason why,
We waste our precious time.
We want to be relied upon.
And between this catch and the next,
We’ll pat our own selves on the back for it.