A bird with broken wings,
Flushed under the radar of the sun,
Sat on the couch of silence
Awaiting what tomorrow brings.
A bird with broken wings,
Mousy before the fleeting breeze,
Winked at the sun-drenched scorching sky
As dolor to her soul horridly clings.
Tears sprang to her eyes
With smiles of sores
Her fretful face wore;
Plastered emotions began to rise
From the rueful root
Of her dampened spirit;
Yet her wings won't fly,
Broken they lay; crippled coot,
Feeble looking, forlorn,
Feathers bowed and sideways buried,
Glory slayed and concealed
With her flapping days dolefully gone
Like a bird with broken wings.
Fantastic! I like your usage of imagery. good job, brother. Kudos and keep on writing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks Aremu. I am glad you liked it. Hope to see your works to. Regards.