the takeoff

First day we aimed for the stars.
Second day we pack our bags.
On the third I never came.

It was a good day for you
to breach your shiny stratosphere,
but my feet was fear-anchored.

I'm no man to take you there,
and acrophobia screams louder
with their tenacious arguments.

There's no justification to believe
in tragic being who constantly cowers
before anything aimed upwards.