Pigeons

They walk,
full of confidence with their bright red feet
Moving their heads to the rythem of the city
red eyes, staring far away, into a distant memory

Tall gray buildings, competition swirling everywhere
now replaces the tall rocky cliffs and waves shattering against.
Only it's jade green neck, reminds of the wooded pine forests and the endless fields

They fly,
with fragile wings crushed by competition
All that matters now is the fallen bread crumbs on the floor
The days on the high cliffs, watching the universe revolve
is now a distant, sweet memory

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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