Truth

The Birds and I

When I was little,

I collected marbles and feathers.

Both so vibrant-

Both so gleefully gathered.

Now, as I've grown and still grow,

The beauty of a marble fails to astound.

Now, the concept, not the look,

Entices me to pick a feather up from the ground.

I admit that I am jealous of birds,

Of their marvelous feat;

The way they soar through the heavens,

Their freedom to meet.

But I have taken an oath in the past,

And I will gladly repeat it now:

I care not for jealousy-

Under the burden of injustice I will not bow.

Because if there ever comes a day

When the birds and I reach a compromise,

it will not be the result of a thrown stone,

But because I have learned to fly.