Alone.
Left to fly across the Pacific expanse.
An island filled with others alike;
wings yellow, bill yellow
feathers white.
Hundreds, thousands, waiting around
for a mate, a friend.
Years spent making connections
working hard
trying to make something real.
Exhaustion.
Never quitting
eventually noticing
that ones like you are made of concrete.
Blank, dry, cold,
fake.
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 2:16 AM UTC
Alone.
Left to fly across the Pacific expanse.
An island filled with others alike;
wings yellow, bill yellow
feathers white.
Hundreds, thousands, waiting around
for a mate, a friend.
Years spent making connections
working hard
trying to make something real.
Exhaustion.
Never quitting
eventually noticing
that ones like you are made of concrete.
Blank, dry, cold,
fake.