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
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