Wicked people, life is cruel.
To hurt a innocent little bird
Wicked people, life is cruel.
A bird once soared through endless skies,
But now it weeps with bound-up cries.
Its wings are tied by a ruthless hand,
A life confined to nor air just land.
No winds to lift, no heights to seek,
Its spirit broken, fragile, weak.
The rope is coarse, the knots are tight,
A cruel design to steal its flight.
Eyes that once sparkled with the sun,
Now dim with sorrow, joy undone.
For what kind heart could bear to see,
A creature robbed of being free?
Though wings are bound, fear and pain
Cruelty like this, it is truly insane.
some dark acts leave scars too deep,
God bless this bird, it makes god weep.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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