bird

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A bridge among barricades A bird among bears Love is free, love is peace Trust from a tired heart Energy from an exhausted mind Love connects, love supports
Once upon a time, there was a bird who spoke of love My nightingale believed in love, this magic she spoke of Knowledge and philosophy is my true power
Perhaps one of my worst traits is dreaming I dream to leave behind my soft spoken nature To demonstrate confidence I dream to hear the waves of Applause surrounding me.  To have the people on the edge of their seats I dream to prove those who call
Well if they knew that we were political, We'd be done for.   Because they helped build new york But people from new york are broken themselves. And in spite of their open arms
My heart becomes a stallion that swiftly passes through the immense field of green, Her eyes are but a doorway hidden from all men, The look she gives me as I pass her_inhaling her attractive scent,
If I could draw my feelings, that would be one thing But I cannot   I have no feelings   But maybe that just means I feel too much, or Think too much   Very true indeed  
To take away, with the accordance of a fowl, the flight of a child is not the loss of air.   The wings that protrude from the back of your aims are the soul that keeps one on fire;  
With college approaching My sanity needs coaxing Musing my future- A dry, beguiled form of humor   Waiting. Debating. Suffocating.   It's the epitome of a plight They say is only finite
There  once  was  a  little  bird Who    just    wanted    to    fly “Spread your wings and leap,” The   other   birds   told    her,
 
like bird afraid of heights Or night losing moon and stars In her eyes Your heart was always mine .. -Jordan Jessie
Chirping together with singing, I awaken to the act of being Calling my name to begin the day. Calling me away  From the past of yesterday.   While all my problems fade
I wake up, Redeemed. I awake, birds cherping.  I awake, beautiful Sunrise awaiting.  I awake, songs of Worship playing. I awake, blessed with another day.  I awake, imagination flowing. 
Why does the songbird Always fly away When winter comes?
They Come.Flapping their feathered wings.Mocking me in their bizarre language of squawks and gibberishCircling like vultures above unsuspecting vesselsSearching for scraps. If one brings out food on a boat, They Come. They Come in their vast numbe
I am the bird of the weeping willow. I whine and sway I cry at bay. I toss, I turn – I yearn, I wish. And whisper to plead, set me free from the swaying, the willow that whispers.
I wish I was a bird.I could fly far away and never come back.I would finally be happy, and this depression I have I would finally lack.I would soar higher than any bird has before.
I wish I was a bird.I could fly far away and never come back.I would finally be happy, and this depression I have I would finally lack.I would soar higher than any bird has before.
this bird is cool now Actually it is not the bird is now fine
  I have the power of a lion   but you allow me to be a bird locked up in a dark space I sit
I am a bird I am free to fly wherever I want But I choose to stay in my nest There are people out there who's job is to hunt But my nest is the best and I choose not to stray I love my nest
The boundless days The sun beats down The silky waves Is the sweetest sound   The creeping wind The green palm fronds The effortless sway Is the sweetest sound  
Small bird at my window sitting, singing, looking in -eyeing my lunch crackers greed- i-ly. By A. Gagliardi
  The red wings flew Carrying the words of the people They went far as the wind blew. And it caused a ripple.  
Let’s set flight on Demacia’s Wings! Valor flies in and carries your team. The might of Demacia is shown as he flies. The light of Demacia glitters in her eyes.
What have I become? All I want to do is lie somewhere, on the soft and unbroken earth. Feel the pulse of mother's womb, hear the coyotes calling, wade into a cold  rushing river
Caged bird     I want to roam free in the wild I’m scared   I want to experience the world I’m scared   I want to know love for the first time I’m scared  
Those who don’t know me call me weird Those who love me call me a bird I spread my wings up and I set to fly but then I realize I still have awhile
My beautiful bird.
The black bird hiddenA crow, dark as nightAmong the willow branchesCascading to the groundA song so mournfulFlat and broken, a puzzleIncomplete.
I am a bird meant for flight,Beautiful plumage and a mind to the right.I am fed lies of fame and money,I am the bird of milk and honey.I want to act and I want to sing,But maybe "lawyering" is your thing.
A young falcon looks up at the sky Knowing that someday she will fly She is treated miserably
I don't know why I like the things I do,I especially don't know why you disapprove. The moment I smile and claim my happiness,
You were a bird Free, fragile He was a vulture Cruel, devious You were a storm Somber, dark
I AM A JAIL BIRD!
I'm bird caged in a human body. I'm only can be free in my mind. Where all my dreams can come true. The music never stops. The stars can be seen all day. And my love is always next to me.
Heed younge starling eager for flight, tender eyes no sight. Your limbs so slight and feathers so few what can become of you? Harshness awaits with hallowing winds chaffing against the night.
I shall teach my heart not to sing like a hooded falcon, quiet and resigned to the jesses. To let my heart soar, I tell myself, would be a fearsome and frightening thing. Once I spot my prey
The news rang in my ears I didn't know how to accept it "She's brain dead" I hear it over and over A constant reminder I can still see your face Hear your voice Promising me I'll be okay
In the air soars the eagle Riding the wind, a world so real Grasping prey in beak and claw Home in on the raven's caw Fast just like a lightning bolt They challenge any insult
And the whippoorwill twilled,  While over rocks water spilled, Green grass in the fields blew, And sweet lipped Mocking Birds o'er head flew. 
To be heard like the songs of a bird filled with happy hamonies and mellow melodies
A letter was on a page part of a word part of a conciousness flowing out of the river of ideas ebbing from the  lake of creativity.   The letter vibrates through the air
I held a bird in my hand Palms cupped together Fingers interlaced While he shivered Heart beating faster Almost throbbing As instinct fought to free him From the cage
One day I'd like to see, A bird fall in front of me, Twitching swiftly on the ground, Squirming churning without sound, Till all its bones and body stiffs, Till there's no more life in it.
When we die, We'll fly like birds in the sky, Together till the end of forever, N' every soul in death is the same, With a story to its name, N' these bird all cry, Singing the songs of pain n' pleasure,
The girl lies on a cot -- The girl with hauntingly beautiful green eyes. With nothing but a battered baby blanket to cover her emaciated body. Her feet peek out from beneath the sheet, bloody and broken,
Every day I look into the mirror and this is what I see.  Size 2 kids feet, stepping on me. 
Pajaro de mi alma Ten alas y vuela Estas libre Estas lleno de esperanza Dejame en paz Porque tu libertad El batir de tus alas En el aire libre Es mas importante
The early morning dew, glistening on the autumn leaves.
I see the burning of the sky tonight, hues of orange to light, fades of blue; dark overcast, overnight, I tame sight. Lion in the sky roars to lay a mark; Seeing the heavenly fire creeping forward,
To match her skirt of scarlet red Below a long, grey coat, The crown of feathers on her head  Above a soft, pink throat.    Below a long, grey coat
To the black and white minstrel Capped in red Drumming a ballad of beat In a forest ballroom with ceilings of leaves   Capped in red Autumn trees stand tall
If I had the power, I would help a baby bird to fly. I would teach it how to use its wings. I would catch it if it fell. I would make it believe in itself. If I had the power, I would help the mother on minimum wage.
The sultry cicadas sound the alarm, Warning with sweet nodding crescendos.   Robins, ravens, and warblers leave their base- The forked pecan tree across the street- And head into enemy territory.
I am just a girl I wish I was a bright bird But that is not true
If I could change one aspect of me, It would certainly be to be free. I sprout some big wings, Get shoes with some springs, And take to the air like a bee.
I feel the warm, gentle breeze Blow past the birds and bees,
I am a baby blue bird, drifting to the soft sands of Rio de Janeiro, while lying dead on a dilapidated raft with all cares in the world left forgotten by my bedside.  
To Walk a Mile in the Rain
Clipped wings keep you caged but your song flows sinuously still
Sit in a dark room Hear the beat of the bird caged in Your Chest. It  wants out, to be  free of its dark and sad prison. Feel  the caress, feathers against the bars
They didn’t have to clip your wings, You were never meant to fly, You were only born,
Running Running FUNNING running Funneling grape soda and cranberry juice through a lemon squeezer Why not? It’s all pointless anyway. Birds fall out of the sky like
The sun rises rises in my soul. The rays dance and  explodelike lyrics hitting the ear. I am the song. Illusionsshatter like glass. I morph into a dazzling tapestry of shadow and  light. Thesetting sun no longer reminds me of death.
How beautiful the crow is as he sits up in the tree, ruffling up his feathers while staring down at me. His gaze is unfaltering and at me he continues to stare, I can see what he has endured and the pain he can bare.
On the very brink of reality, Hanging on the edge of safety, Tweet, tweet, tweeting up, up high, The in and out breaths, the deep sigh, To jump or hop back to the nest?
Wings clipped, hope busted, dreams shattered,  My cage is worn and my clothes are tattered,  I’ve reached the end of my rope, I’ve lost,  This used to be bubbly and warm, now I’m frost, 
The sounds of a sweet bird; lively, buoyant, and free, The sounds of a bitter bird; bleak, melancholy, and confined.
A forgotten baby birdfeathers greyfeet unstable Stranded by the waterborn alonebarely breathing Eye of God watchingopen wingsorphaned young
Little bird, Your voice is heard. I see your tears, I understand your fears. I will fight for you, But you must fight too.   Little bird, You mean the world to me,
“All I need is a red rose To see her dance upon her toes, But in my garden there is none,” The student cried up to the sun.   Lying in a nest above Sat a bird inspired by love.
Upon the autumn's lighted day, Perched upon my view, I say, Singing songing was he then, Ringing autumn's leaves away.   Standing sturdy on the tree, The tree, to me, still sound asleep,
The sky is the limit they say, yet I havent seen it in days. Loose paper and pen, sorrounded by men. Trying to make it through these years, with fears. Never thought I would end up here, I learned to hear
I write because I fight with words. I write because when I write I can be heard when there's no one else to listen and nothing else to do, not a verb else. When I write my sentences are fragmented but my thoughts are complete. Through.
I am a bird within this cage but you are too rough with me so I will not sing. 
  The partridge swings happily in the tree, For some reason it cannot see, The death day is drawing near, And the partridge doesn't show fear, A cat awaits from afar,
Sitting at home on a hot summer's day, A pen in my hand, What in my poem could I possibly say?   There on the balcony the blue jay sits, His feathers shining beneath Nature's light,
In the night, I heard a songbird sing. It was such a sight to see the most beautiful thing. Every night, he would flap his wings and then, start singing.  
Your words sound as sweet as the morning dew and yet thy words play with my gentle heart too innocent to unveil what flew through thy humbling failures cast us apart   A small bird I am doth sing my tune
They don't kow the tears I cry, They don't know the life I have, I have wings and I can fly, Going by my own path. I seem weak, But I am strong, Very sweetly meek, But not for long.
Today is a day That I will dream I will dream of undreamable things I will make up words I will make up songs Even if the world doesn't want to sing along
To the clouds, hawk says, "You are what I dreamed to have! My soft and white bed!"
Fly away from here the keeper said Don't look back all you'll see is death- Death to a dream that is yours... Fly away and don't look back Just keep to your destined path
What if you were a bird, my dear? What would happen then? Would you decide to fly off one day never to return again?
An extremely lost Bird flies high up in the Clouds, flies in a Daze, but Eager to be Found again. Golden feathers top its Head, with golden plumage flowing like
The sparrow sings a brilliant song, But no one sings along. Ebony sat upon her wing Making it hard to sing. Steadfast as the morning dew, She will chime in without cue. Louder than the stars above
I had a canary once Every morning it would sing It was the most precious thing I cherished it for months
My name is Eden. I am not a garden, not even a flower. I am a shell, a husk, a vessel. I hold in the pain of those closest to me. My pain doesn't stay in this body. It escapes through the cracks and pores.
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