A Forgotten Songbird

Severed, broken, cutdown – all bitter ends.
A dismembered omen of lives past shed,
A mirror for myself, perhaps,
Seeing my breatheren’s cold lifeless head.

‘What was it like to be free?’ – I wonder.
What was it like to soar the skies?
What was it like to see, and experience life
From your once vibrant eyes?

How these must have mattered for you,
I will never truly know – for today,
I have just found you,
No more than a kick of my shoe.

Songbird without a throat I ask you,
Sing me one last tune – one I hope,
One day,
Will teach me to be more like you.

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