Lately I’m trying to fly
Mostly it’s going awry
The idea intrigues me
The action fatigues me
But patience is in good supply

As a boy I sure loved my tattoos
Their vibrant and colorful hues
But time causes fades
To blacks, blues and jades
So my shoulder just looks like a bruise

Sometimes the plan is a bust
Despite all the sweat and saw dust
Collect all your tools
And follow the rules
But often you’ll need to adjust