Once there was a hand with wings. He flew and saw amazing things. One day he saw an unusual place where he met an eye without a face. The eye had wings, but did not fly. He cried and whaled. He wished to die. The hand asked, “if you don’t mind, good eye, won’t you tell me why you cry?”
“I am posted to the ground and cannot move.” said the eye
“Then I shall dig you out!” said the hand who stumbled a bit (no legs to stand)
Days went by. Then months. Then years.
Hand still dug.
Eye still shed tears.
“Finally I’m free!” said the eye at last who zipped and zagged through the air so fast!
The hand fell to the ground, you see, he’d given his life so the eye could be.
And as he lay gazing to the sky he began to reflect at years gone by.
He thought of the work he had put in, for the eye to see the world again.
As he felt his final breath deploy, one last tear fell.
This time from joy.