A little bird,
A true pathetic weakling,
Dreams to become an eagle
Spread thin, pale wings
And fly.
A little wimp,
So laughable, so fickle,
Falls from the giant tree,
Shun by the strong, majestic birds,
To die.
It whimpers.
Pain unbridled stabs it.
It lays in shattered pride,
And haunted by regrets,
It cries.
It’s typical,
For brittle tiny birdie,
Lust for the tempting sky.
The point, however, here is cruel:
Not everyone is meant to fly.
Advertisements
Lovely writing
LikeLike
Thank you 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is great.
LikeLike
Thank you 🙂
LikeLike
Would you like to share your content on our open publishing platform?
LikeLike
Thank you for the offer. Yes, I’d like to. What do I need to do?
LikeLike
Great. Please visit Ascerblog.xyz and register yourself. You can then start sharing your content.
LikeLike
I will. Thank you
LikeLike
wonderful poetry.. loved every word
LikeLiked by 1 person
Many thanks 🙂 I’m glad you did
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really liked this piece, thanks for sharing!
LikeLike
Thank you for reading 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great writing. We each have our purpose – love the message.
LikeLike
Thank you 🙂 Yes we do .
LikeLiked by 1 person
So sad, but true! Enjoyed your poem! 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you. I’m glad you did.
LikeLike
At least not all at the same altitude. Poignant choice of words!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. That’s very true
LikeLike