For me. For you. For us.
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.
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Lovely writing
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Thank you 🙂
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This is great.
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Thank you 🙂
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Thank you for the offer. Yes, I’d like to. What do I need to do?
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I will. Thank you
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wonderful poetry.. loved every word
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Many thanks 🙂 I’m glad you did
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I really liked this piece, thanks for sharing!
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Thank you for reading 🙂
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You’re welcome!
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Great writing. We each have our purpose – love the message.
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Thank you 🙂 Yes we do .
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So sad, but true! Enjoyed your poem! 🙂
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Thank you. I’m glad you did.
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At least not all at the same altitude. Poignant choice of words!
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Thank you. That’s very true
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