When I Became a Kite

I am freely flying,
Up in the blue sky,
With the wind joining
Like an eagle soaring high.

Your hands holding tight,
With a white loosely thin thread,
Afraid of losing me in your sight,
Afraid of crashing me from above.

But as the wind changes,
It is pulling me down to ground.
Until I snags to the trees,
Became a wreck, full of wounds.

You look and look for me,
Till you see me wounded up in a tree.
You try to repair your broken kite,
But in end, you make a new one,
fly it in the sky amidst the shiny daylight.

You left  me unfinished,
Leaving me in broken pieces,
Looking for the owner once made me,
Flying his new one up above the sky.