Crushed Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Crushed

Spring is for buds,
Sprouts and grass;
Also, time for hatch of
Small eggs in the nests
Of many singing birds…

Beauty is observed
In every life's corner.

But open, if are eyes
The sorrow is around;
Nature acts brutal…

On surface of the earth
Lie many of chicks, dead.

They must have tried to
Get closer to food…

In the mouth of parent…

The chicks fall, featherless
Closed eyes and wingless
With bulgy big tummies
Yellow lines around beaks.

If not dead and crushed
Underneath the tires
Are waiting to breathe
The final, last breath!

Oh, nature!
Oh, nature!
Oh, nature!