A girl sits beneath a willow tree,

from this distance it was hard to see,

but a chick had fallen next to her,

it must’ve fell from its nest when it tried to fly,

it had likely grown in the safety of a home,

was told to trust it, but was forced to leave too soon,

now look at it:

broken, alone, and stolen.

The life of this bird could have been one of wonder,

‘She would have flown from her nest,

to soar above this tree,

she would be part of a majestic world,

maybe she could have watched her own fly,

she could’ve flown, if only they had given her more time.’

The girl cried for the fallen bird next to her,

hearing the birds above cry,

they hadn’t known she was simply not ready,

why did this girl cry,

maybe, it was because she mourned this chicks life,

or maybe she was the bird,

who left safety too soon,

and realized under this willow tree that life would not wait up for her,

she too was: broken, alone, and stolen,

hoping those who cried above hadn’t forgotten her.