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- The Birds -

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posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 07:55 PM
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Birds of a feather stick together
as the story goes, and in this
Case the bird itself, continued
blow after blow.

Slam dancing as it does the
other birds to which did mock,
Little birdie glowing bright
let out a screeching shrill that night.

It's talons long and ever sharp
Dug them deep into her heart
smiling as it went along
Ugly from it's pretense start.

The other birds did see this wretch
as it flew above their heads
For nothing more nor reason said
it mocked unto it's own delight
So sad for now is slain it's dead.

Poor little bird full of dread
just one last time lifted up it's head
Black eyes piercing through the night
then back to hell it made it's bed.
©




posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 07:58 PM
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a reply to: awareness10

This such a true poem about life and the people we meet. Great writing!



posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 08:02 PM
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a reply to: Quantum12

Don't we know it! Thankyou for that!



posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 08:08 PM
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a reply to: awareness10

That was fantastic! Truly one of your best.

How dark and igniting! Those birds DO stick together, don't they?

Thank you for this!




posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 08:11 PM
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a reply to: TNMockingbird

oh TN your so very very welcome! What a pleasure i never see you on my poems anymore!!!



posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 08:14 PM
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a reply to: awareness10

Ah, real life callings!

I only find time to read, flag and star anymore but you best believe...I am there!

I could only echo the accolades and sentiments of those ahead of me. So glad that you decided to dust off your talents!

They are many.




posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 08:20 PM
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a reply to: TNMockingbird

Ah don't worry truly i know you're always around someplace, somewhere


Sometimes talent just pours out of me like fairy dust ya know!

Oh im sure you have many talents too dear TN sweet lady.



posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 08:24 PM
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I knew an old man who had 7 birds like the one in the picture, they were his dearest friends. But the one bird, it was always attacking the others, the Veterinarian said it was damaged from some kind of accident to the head. So that's where this poem came from. I hope everyone enjoyed it. Sadly he's no longer with us but his memory lives on.




posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 10:48 PM
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REMEMBER: Always cook your chicken to a minimum of 165 degrees Fahrenheit.

I have about ten distinct crows on my property, 30 acres with about 5 acres of tall trees. While I'm out, they act as sentries. If things are right its just crow dialogue, if there is a stranger, everything is in alarm mode. I like these guys....
edit on 20-9-2016 by Plotus because: (no reason given)



posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 10:51 PM
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a reply to: Plotus

Well thanks for the input, but these Birds aren't chickens they are a much different kind of Foul.

Non edible.



posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 10:55 PM
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Didn't mean to whatever just happened.... I would liked to have finished my post before a reply, my bad.



posted on Sep, 20 2016 @ 10:58 PM
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a reply to: Plotus

Ah i see now. No worries thanks for that Plotus



posted on Sep, 21 2016 @ 03:21 PM
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One in the same
Towards the the way
They followed on
Amazing grace.




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