Onward, Forward, Ahead

I shout no, to excessive demands and

judgmental looks and whispers.

To glare at scumbags avoiding

flipping and chirping

giving up on the hustle

and simply, flying.

The pole is too high, they say.

The mountain is haunted, they say.

The stars are foreboding, they say.

But I strive and strive and strive.

I go onward, forward, and ahead.

Up, up, and away.