Angels To Birds Poem by Mark Heathcote

I am hearing mixed messages from you.
Like angels to birds'
I don't understand the chorus.
Or better still, the words

But when we argue
I feel like I'm not heard.
There's too much heavenly singing.
There is too much background noise.
There's too much music ringing.
To hear a word

There's too much lofty energy.
There's too much static recollection.
To give flight to this clipped flightless bird.
Sure, I want to soar to new heights.
Sure, I want to know what does whet your appetite.
What makes you ignite?
'I don't want any mixed messages.
Or any late-on blockbuster rewrites.'