My world has shrunk in the past few years.
These eyes don't squint to see the the future.
Not nearly king of this jungle, but I have no fears.
As Icarus' flight, I too am a loser.

Always the gold and never the silver
Missed, I have, with every arrow in this quiver.
To feed my dreams I run in haste.
But never is it victory, only a taste.

Longing to reclaim the arcade's glow.
But my pocket holds only one token.
The wind beneath these wings now ceases to blow.
My spirit is forever broken.

But if a bumblebee's wings allow it to fly.
Why must I wait to revisit the sky?
Perhaps my dreams have all been a lie.
Yet the air I have tasted is too sweet not to try.

My life may never land me on my star.
But my heart is too spent to say au revoir.