The birds are flying,
Their wings are spread,
They travel In oblivion
Over your head.
You ignore them,
Yes to you they are dead.
They are just birds of a midnight blue,
With the ability to change their very hue.
Yes if they had the any wish to
They could change their suit,
As to be recognized by you.
However this they do not pursue.
They are reckless as they fly.
That one kissed the sky.
That one dropped its tear in your eye,
But still its very existence you deny.
I try to speak and admit they are there,
But according to you I am too ignorant to be aware.
I point up toward the grey sky,
I am providing proof,
Which you meticulously deny.
Your claim does not eliminate what I saw,
For not only did I see them,
But heard their caw!
The bird is now resting on your arm,
He has my flesh in his very prominent beak,
Revealing the truth to all that I said ,
When I spoke of the birds just above your head,
And all that they had done to me,
Yet you still claim you do not see!
A crow is nesting upon your head,
Heavy like a burden of all-encompassing dread.
You do not swipe or shoo it away, you do not even blink an eye
For you want me to concur that you are right,
And all only exists according to your sight
All that I feel is untrue unless consented by you.
I am no longer bound to prove it to you,
That the birds encircling our heads are true,
Instead I’ll know deep with in my very soul,
Because I have now made a decision
Your choices
Are not what make me efficient.
So I will maintain my decision,
As you can yours,
Whether you wish to deny or listen.
© Loretta Hanscome
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