I Want To Fly

Found this in an old spiral notebook. I don't remember when I wrote it, or what inspired it, or anything about it, really. I don't think it's complete, but since its very existence is kind of a mystery to me, I'll just post it as-is:

Look around, and what can you see?
Ground. Rocks. Trees. Animals. The Sky.
Touch them -

The ground is firm.
The rocks are rough.
The trees are sturdy.
The animals are soft.
The sky is... The sky is what?

You can't touch it. You can't be part of it;
But still I try. I hate the Earth.
I want to break these ties.
I want to fly.