I bought myself a kite to fly
I ran through sunny fields
And tried to urge it to the sky
But it skipped at my heels

I leaped and danced for childish years
It never left the ground
I noticed through my childish tears
What's left of it was brown

It was torn in the mud, so it was mangled, it was done
And thus concludes the tragedy of the kite I numbered one.

My second kite was stronger, though.
It caught a mighty gale
my heart flew with it in the yellow
Rainbow sky it sailed

I smiled.  My kite, it seemed to me,
Would always stay as mine
But the sting slipped and I lost my grip
I lost it to the sky

It joined with bubbles and balloons, whatever else is there
In the *****, lonely cloudland in the out-of-picture air.

I still had hope and so I bought
My final silken bird
I told myself that I would soon
Unleash it to the word.

I planned that on a weekend soon  
I’d make it to the field.
The colors all would show again
Just once my schedule cleared

The kite's debut date got pushed back and further back until
It found a final resting place untested in its skill.

I bought myself three kites to fly
The first two meet ill fates
The third one has a dusty shelf
Where it keeps very safe.