The Allure to Fly

What was it that made you want to spread your wings and fly?
Was it the allure of the clear blue skies? 
Or was it the wind under the wings,
to flutter by or soar in the sky?

What makes you feel you have to run far away?
Was it the feel of the wind in your face
Or was it the feel of the grass under your sole?
Do you think you can ever end the run?

Do you want to continue to fly away and hide?
Or would you rather come out, without saying goodbye?
Do you always plan to stay stored away,
And not let the world see your vulnerable gaze?