what is a pigeon to a dove
as dull as paper mâshe,
you're confused by the way
he swims in the sky above
the sweetest chirps in the trees
end up as a sour parley
you saw yourself when his
feathers seemed white
but you see the grey when
it is time to part ways
there's nothing to lose
if it does not glow in the sun
he can fluff his feathers in the rain
while you soar in the sky
with your beauty and your life unsung
there's more to life
then flying beside a pigeon who's just
passing by,
there is someone
waiting to float near the clouds
with you by his side.

- t.m