Wings are hard to come by
in a world where having two feet
planted firmly on the ground
is considered ‘customary’.
Flying is frowned upon,
especially when publicly
spreading your fiberglass wings
in defiance of ‘societal conventions’.
Magic is made monstrous
in a time when casting spells
will get you no more than a funny look
and piece of concerned advice.
Wings will weigh you down
in a sky that spits acid rain,
for flying isn’t safe nowadays,
since magic is misliked.
Stellular Scribe 