Inspired by a Regina Spektor song. c:
Birds
sitting on a wire
watched you walk away,
beaks sharp and pointed
though not as cruelly edged
as the sneer you just sneered
and the lies you just spewed.
They took to wing
as you turned the corner,
and disappeared in the neighbor’s
perfectly pruned trees,
but their absence meant nothing,
went completely unnoticed,
when yours was so gapingly obvious.
I sat on the crab grass in the front,
lacking a melancholy porch,
and wished I could take to wing to follow,
to see you from afar, just like the birds
sitting on the wire nearby,
which were gone when I looked again.
Must everything leave?
