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Heights
We fly to heights;
then sink to depths.
Like birds that fly in the sky;
but pick their feeds from earth.
Like plains that travel in the air;
but gather passengers from the ground.
Like great mountains, towering in glory,
but are founded on their bases.
Great men are small!
They bow to wash others feet,
they get their hands dirty,
to clean up the mess.
The greatest things on earth are small
But there are no mountains without bases
And no wave fails to see the shores
No bird feeds in the air
Heights are sweet but we soon come back home
The greatest imperfection lies in heights
The only temptations come from pride
There’s no warmth in heights
We strive for heights but fall to depths
Heights are never real.
poem
by
Timothy muggaga
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