The bird flying above my head
Whose efforts
Seem tedious
Amongst time with no end
A broken life
That changes
To better fit the image of a friend
With gliding moments
Flying seems distant
When Loving means struggling
And fears ring about my head
As feathers
Drift to the ground
The birds will fly
And maybe one will rest
When it's my time
For the comforts of a Dove
To perch upon my chest
