He was a broken winged bird,
Left behind to die or fade away because he couldn't keep up with the others.
But he did neither
Instead he grew, healing his broken wings and patching them up the best he could
A bird unable to fly but a bird none the less.
He was taken in by strangers, treated as he was seen
Adopted.
Broken.
But he didn't want to be broken,
So every morning he would bite back the blues as he jumped from the window and tried to fly.
He couldn't.
The broken winged bird, sick of not being the same
Climbed a couple hundred stairs one by one instead of taking the elevator
Mulling over what he really was and what he felt like
When he reached top he gazed over the edge and knew:
Now was his time to fly, if only once.
And with that thought in mind he jumped.
