Soaring
Soaring high above the clouds A carefree bird sings aloud, "Here I am full of joy and free, To be as I was created to be." A shot rings out and a hunter growls: "You are too high, you must come low. How dare you leave us here below? How dare you fly up in the air? You have no business to be up there." Falling, falling to the ground The bird crumples without a sound. Shattered to pieces both heart and wing There are no more songs to sing. Careless words, a poison dart, Flightless bird, kept apart. These verbal wounds are fresh and deep. Only time will tell what scars she keeps. Only time will tell what scars I keep.