A Bird’s song


Somewhere along the road

along those dirty canals,

sat a wretched soul;

a lovely bird

her wings broken,

her eyes swollen.


From the time the world arose

to the time it slept

She sat there singing

a crude song;

a song of her bygone;

an extinct beauty.


The city changed,

The grey monsters soared up

and so did the spot of lights.


These lights burned the spirit out;

a spirit that had lifted each and every heart,

a spirit that destroyed fear.

The spirit of a heroic yesterday.


Where did it go? She sang

The spirit of the heroic past!

I wait and wait

to get a glimpse

of this museum piece

and struggling

 to move aside the jeering masks.


But there she sits

On her usual leafless tree

looking into the growing mist

into these million her….


who mouthed the same song along.

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