FLY

A barrel of chance;
a bullet of risk.
Fingers really brisk;
the trigger must dance.
A target uncertain;
I'll entertain no fear.
A mark not near;
still I won't complain.
Ahead, I'll forge;
senses at alert.
Zeal-stained heart;
an undiluted urge.
Not scared to fail;
a fall is no shame.
I'll take the blame...
success will soon sail.
Tirelessly I'll try,
till the sky falls.
If the ground grows tall,
I will still fly.

By Mc Shapiro