Misguided Birds Poem by Joyce Rugg
Misguided Birds
Scars aren't the mark of a survivor,
And black is just a way to look dead.
Starvation claimed thousands this day
While egos are bursting, overfed
Another stalker listening to us chirp
Is a cause for celebration
And missing out on the new iPhone
Is the meaning of true deprivation
When we can't see our flaws,
We'll never start to mend
And all the things that we ignore
Will consume us In the end
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5/1/2024 7:06:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Striking crisp philosophy. The rhyme deepens its essence.