And through the hills and down to the valley to find a place to nest the warblers, the songbirds, and the wrens alike. Feathered avians here and there with a song they’ve known since childhood. They chirp and they flutter, but I shriek and sputter. They tweet and call, but I cackle and fall. When face to face with flocks of gorgeous birds and their equally breathtaking tunes, I’m often left to wonder why I turned out so grim. Was it the way I was born? The nest I grew up in? Or was I never supposed to be the agile, effortless creature everyone wished me to be?
I am an ugly, revolting, thing and that explains why nobody loves me. How could anyone love a beast like me?