Dare To Fly
By Donald Trump
When the ugly goose is born,
Everybody predicts he will never fly.
"Look at him," they say, laughing,
Because they all think they're so smart.
"He will never spread his wings.
He will stay here, by the pond,
In the outer boroughs.
He's not meant to soar
High above the clouds,
With our eagles,
And our airplanes,
And the tops of our skyscrapers,
Where people will pay a premium
To have an office with a park view."
That goose doesn't pay attention.
He goes to the field every morning.
He flaps his wings.
He practices his takeoff runs.
He reads an article about De Tocqueville,
And Jack Welch On Leadership.
He dreams of the heights, and you can't stop him.
One day, you wake up,
And - poof - that goose is gone.
You see on TV that a small bird
Flew into an air intake,
And it took down an entire jumbo jet
Filled with wiseguys who laughed at it.
That bird is me.
(Photo by Michael Vadon. Rights information here.)
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