Looked down upon as a songbird

With broken wings

Whose feeble voice

Could barely sing,

But the forest floor

Was cushioning

And absorbed my last



I saw freedom in the skies,

I saw a scattered paradise

Where feathers fluttered ever so bright

And civilization found its might.


They couldn’t see me,

They didn’t dare,

For the trees were thick and never bare

My eyes blurry,

Feathers gray,

The leaves befriend

 a bird of prey.


Storm clouds come with each passing day,

I drown with every pouring rain,

I hurt and bleed with every drop,

I want to be who I am not.

I shiver and burn as I dry off,

Needing help, but screaming

I cannot,

Needing to bury yesterday

Comforted by the pouring rain.


The Sun shines through and I’m distraught,

Wanted to leave but I forgot,

Leaves have dried and I’m alone,

What’s a songbird without a broken home?


No more rain, only heat

Wings and heart that barely beat

Wondering why I cannot sleep

Looking for hell but lost the key


Forest fires burn as they sweep,

Can’t fly, but I refuse to weep,

Corrupted lungs struggling to heave,

The hawks die when they cannot breathe,

The world lies in ashes along this floor,

Alone, but I don’t care anymore

I once was broken, now I am whole

As a phoenix I rise from this ashen floor


As a phoenix I fly,

Not weak anymore.


As a phoenix I shine,

And sing once more.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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