my beak poised to the sky,
silence abound,
behold the clipping of the beak,
because of parroting,
laws made against my being,
silence should smoother truth,
in a democracy!
My wings flutter,
separated
from their master,
in a clipping of my wings,
no flight for this feather,
what a bird twist of fate,
this grounded bird will beg,
never to enjoy the winds of full potential!
The twist in the tale,
the clipping of my tail.
the final crippling blow,
you took my balance,
lest i stand firm my ground,
the dead tell no tales,
secrets rot
in the graves of innocent
an in silence
flightless has fallen,
dead as a dodo!
