When you clip a bird’s wings,
You have to be very careful.
You have to pin it down;
It screams.
It screams and it struggles and it tries.
It tries to break free.
If you cut the flight feathers too short,
Too close to the tiny body,
You’ll cut the bird;
You’ll hit the bony muscle
At the top of its wing.
And it will scream.
No longer a scream of panic
Of struggle or fear,
But a shrill shriek
Of unmistakable pain.
As the blood gushes
From such a small wound
And its beautiful feathers
Become stained with life,
You realize
What you’ve done.
You’ve taken an exotic Creature of God,
And
In an attempt to harness its beauty,
As all humans must attempt,
You’ve broken it.
The wounds will heal,
The feathers grow back,
But never,
Never shall you forget
Its screams for freedom.
Age 19
You have to be very careful.
You have to pin it down;
It screams.
It screams and it struggles and it tries.
It tries to break free.
If you cut the flight feathers too short,
Too close to the tiny body,
You’ll cut the bird;
You’ll hit the bony muscle
At the top of its wing.
And it will scream.
No longer a scream of panic
Of struggle or fear,
But a shrill shriek
Of unmistakable pain.
As the blood gushes
From such a small wound
And its beautiful feathers
Become stained with life,
You realize
What you’ve done.
You’ve taken an exotic Creature of God,
And
In an attempt to harness its beauty,
As all humans must attempt,
You’ve broken it.
The wounds will heal,
The feathers grow back,
But never,
Never shall you forget
Its screams for freedom.
Age 19