I woke up this morning with a thought in my head,

“There’s a picture to be drawn,

Why lie in bed?”

I look out my window,

Past the hills and the trees,

I see the bright sun, and feel the crisp breeze,

The colors dance through my eyes like fire,

I stretch my arms up,

And reach even higher,

I wonder what it would be like,

To fly high as a bird,

Feeling so free,

Feeling so heard,

So I think to myself as I look out through the glass,

The picture was always there,

I hoped it would last.