Fly South

All of those miserable birds
Countless circles
Wish like fish in
Glass bowls
Thinking of the places
That they’d like to go
From their Alamo
Yes, all of those miserable birds
Struggling to be absurd
Light a candle
Hold that handle
Wings that should be
Fluttering
Just go so long just
Struggling to go
All of your miserable words
Uttered but still go unheard
Coming from beaks on the shore
That if they call
It matters not at all
All of those miserable birds
Hovering above the world
Clip their wings and watch them fall
And leave them there
Until they learn to crawl