Growth of a Bird

Child with wings, cut off to view society as something to become, however can I make a difference?


When I become something one day, points will be proven and points will be proven.


Meaning those who always believed in this soul flying bird will be word-perfect when my wingspan reaches 500 beyond measure. But those who I've sought to prove wrong with success and diligence will see that my spread has become more than I had in mind alone.


You'd hear¨Don't listen to that nonsense¨ but that crave for conscientiousness, lies within your heart? Negative it lies within my mind, my capability, my worth, my knowing, my life!


I'm set momma! I'm determined, I can I can I can. What limits are there besides lawful set asides? A remembrance that I am a bird, I have no one to prove but myself.


Who's my dependency, and who has flown for me? Not a lion, not a bear, and surely not the relative flights. I have patiently conquered my intentions and ambitions, soaring down to hunt my prey, I never backed down from a fight, even when others saw me at my weakest wing.


I've left my nest and applied what my surrounding associates have accommodated to my future flights and fights.




This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741