So, I wrote a poem. And honestly, I haven't wrote poems for about fourteen years. That said, this may be absolutely HORRIBLE. If it is, I'm so sorry for subjecting you to it.
How you interpret it is up to you, be it of a capsuleer or baseliner. Eye of the beholder and all that.
Flightless Birds
Hatched from the egg, these flightless birds
They grow and hope to fly.
But once they jump from Mother’s nest
They stop and wonder why.
Why is it that their wings are broken
Right from the very start?
Shattered to a million pieces
Just like these fledgling’s hearts.
Why does the sky which beckons strong
Seem so far out of reach?
These birds, their eyes, they sparkle
To the heavens they beseech.
Why were they never meant to fly
Though minds had felt this purpose?
A cruel joke from Mother’s hands
To throw them to this circus.
Flames and ice, distraction, confusion
The hunters all will muster.
For this parade of pain and death
Is normal in this cluster.
These thoughts, they twist, turn, and spin
Just like those falling creatures.
Despite how hard they flap those wings
They never had a teacher.
To show these birds just what it meant
To jump and take that flight.
A plunge into those murky depths
Of morality and plight.
And so they crumble, land, and die
Those bodies and that dream.
And in the end more eggs are laid
To continue the regime.
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Topic: Flightless Birds (Read 958 times)