Sparrow With A Broken Wing Poem by Jesse Ellsbury

The sparrow flutters with a broken wing,
one working oar spinning it in circles.
It has no idea what the future holds,
a bleak and broken condemnation,
its injury the confirmation
that pain is the only thing that outlives youth.

The wing splashes the mud like the hull of a ship,
slapping a sea that cares not for the bird
in the harsh tribulations that punish us
for the fall from Eden or something pointless
such as a life of iniquity that serves as a test
wherein everyone gets the same grade: death.

To search for a purpose or just make one up,
self-delusion's no choice, it's imposed upon us.
onscious thought is the curse of the sun;
only the brightest burn out when they're young.
Be it by fire or the force of a gun,
we have in our hand deliv'rance from sin.

But perhaps the sparrow sees the nest it fell from,
the faces of family looking down, helpless,
their chirps but faint whispers lost in the day.
Their pain is as real as anyone's hurt:
there's nothing sadder than giving up on the work
needed to uphold the life we're given at birth.

But who is being selfish in this case?
The vicarious sufferers or he who lives the pain?
Condemned as he is, trapped by the love
he has for his mate and those who brought him so far.
Be aware that though his death may leave scars,
you're strong enough to survive the pain that he found too hard.