A bird in a tree, tired of flying and wants to be free,
looks at the ground and whispers to me,
"i who have flown so many miles,
must not continue this aviation of skies,
iam tired and tarnished from what i have done,
so please help me not see the midnight sun".
Ironic i think, a bird who wants to be free.
I wish i had wings, and was able to fly,
but here you are, ready to die.