Of A Bird With Broken Wings

It’s a first glance of injury, but a forming thought of illusion Based on a history of empty answers and polished doubt You try and trust in your instincts formed out of heavy confusion The past interferes with future, by history you back out Fear of falling for a trick leads to clouded reality So you keep your mouth shut to a creature who cannot speak It’s none of your business but you wonder what may be A life built on tricks or a future truly bleak You peek into your lifetime of unseen stupidity A linear path of a heart faded by belief in lies There are facts and memories that constitute timidity That leave you to fixate on whether a bird flies -s.grace