Cutting across the envious winds
Flying high above the clouds
Surging through the sunny rays
Winning is a habit for the kite always.
"O dude, you break records.
Not one among us birds
Can beat you in the heights."
Uttered the bird its thoughts.
"O bro, you’ve golden words
Among your fellow birds.
Need to reach new heights,
If ever the kite runner permits."
"That’s cruel, be free like birds.
My beak’s sharper than swords
Shall I cut the line?"
“At once bro, cut the line.”
In no time, the kite line is cut.
But no line to support,
Into a marshy pit, the kite
Fell quickly, ending the flight.
A teacher is a kite runner.
Once cut away from this trainer,
O student, can you fly high?
No. Hence be patient to fly high.
