“Don’t fly too close to the sun,
Your wings are wax.
You cannot fly that high,
You are human, all too human.”
“But I must fly away from this earth,
This cold world is not for me.
I belong in the warmth of the sun,
I must shed these man-made wings.”
I sailed too close to the sun,
Only to fall to the earth.
To pick up the vestiges of broken wings,
How fragile are man-made things!
In an earthly life devoid of meaning,
Solace in the sun I was seeking.
But I am but human and no bird,
Alas the birds are chained to the sky.
Tell the scorcher sun,
I would rather be a street urchin,
Than a glorious eagle,For I am human, all too human.
/* This poem marks the end of my foolish search for perfection in an imperfect world. Being human means having to face loneliness, meaninglessness and ultimately death. We humans try to fight a way out of this human condition( almost trying to be Nietzsche's Ubermensch). But we are human , all too human and can only be t peace and happy when we embrace our condition no matter what it is and revel in it. We cannot deny ourselves our own humanity.In essence, this poem is about Icarus being at peace with his inability to touch the sun*/