We are kites.
Metaphorically of course,
We hang to this earth by a string,
When our string is cut
we fall, when we fall, we fall fast.

We all leave a tail,
just like a kite .
Many are colorful
and many are bright
Each tail as beautiful as the others.

High in the sky touching the clouds,
Us with our head in those same clouds.
The wind whipping the kite around,
like our clothes in a storm.

Some tend to drift slowly.
Others fly away with the wind.
Some just may break and fall,
Never to fly again.

My metaphor is a kite.
We are so a like.
There is one difference.
When we fall,
Others tend to feel it too.