Our world, our only home
Has changed its feathers
But became an utterly different bird too
Hoovering over universe's domes
The loudest of the yellers
With its fierce hawk eyes
And claws clenched for strike
It couldn't really catch any pray
For when danger's on the rise
Scared to death
It shies away
From any real fight
Wings that are carrying our days
Are wings of a queer bird
Of disheveled, thin plumage
A quizzical detail of this funny looking image
Seeing that it has been avoiding skirmishes since its birth
Ask anyone from its flock
They know the chronicles of this creature
They would tell you stories of a proud flyer
With flying capacities of a rock
In the quietest conversations
You would hear tales of a genius
With clumsy thoughts and skillful words
Taking itself much too serious
(the start of 2013)
