I swift my hand in a wide,

Unable to find an aim to guide.

It stood pin pointed there to fly,

On the deck of my room, it flew to sky.

It travelled down the lane,

I looked with hope at my plane.

At times it moves in disarray,

Seemed the thick wind is the fact this way.

My hope drained in the air,

Only if I thought it could be fair .

Alas! It flew down on the pond,

There seemed it couldn’t fly beyond.

I ran down the streets over it,

It was crumpled down from hit.

Bent down as I tried to fix,

Only to realise the clock strikes six.

Our mind is often one limiting,

In case ones mind is inhabiting.

Form the thought of imaginary boundary,

By comparing yourself with surrounded me.

You don’t need anything to scale,

Work hard till you regain in detail.

Specialising is the key for one to guess,

The limiting factor of the time is less.