It's 1,260 beats per minute,
that the hummingbirds heart beats at,
trapped in the barbed wire fence of war,
or caught in the jaws of a cat.

My breath is just as quick,
as the tiny thrumming bird,
my plumage being clawed at,
by those harsh metal burs.

It's stained a sickly pink,
my plumage of once-white feather,
the stains won't wash away,
my skin's as raw as leather.