Birds

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Warm bodies soar through the condescending clouds

They seem so free, up there, where angels lay

Maybe that's why, we bury them in metal rods

To feel that power, we could never feel

Out of reach, our dirty paws grasp the sky

While our neighbors, the free critters, caress the blue above

~ My Dear Poems   ~Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora