feathers growing on my arms
my lips is shaping to a beak
claws comes from my fingers
hopping to reach wooden bench
i forgot to walk; can't talk
i'm craving to reach treetops
i'm invisible to sadden eyes
one throw me piece of crumbs
trying to talk to me and some
i hop away i glide through
my head brushes few branches
blood drips; now i am in tears
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem