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Thinks & Inks

By @astrid_hartman

The Black Bird Flies

The black birds fly

Spreading their feathery wings

Contrasting with the greying sky,

The incoming storm,

But they do not care

They still spread their wings

Against the wind and God’s Wrath,

Against the world

They hold up the sky,

Soaring, as they break free

From eternity, blissful

On the wind currents they soar

And I watch them,

Trapped behind glass and granite

Hard wood floors and slamming locker doors

Stuck like gum on the bottom of a chair

Stuck, trapped here

In a building which boasts greatness

But harbors theives

Granite and wood that are polished

Like we all should be

But too many leap from the nest

Without learning how to fly

And so the little black bird falls,

Then sadly dies. 

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