Flightless

It lost its wings

flightless

To no longer soar

concrete jungle

it became nothing

Value

it bowed its head

sadly

and cried

for there was nothing to be done.

People offered

Help

Its possible

the doctor's opinion

You may fly again.

Anaesthetic

when it woke

It was difficult to move

it was heavy

Guilt

and It could barely move

Its wings were there,

Shiny

The doctor smiles.

Try it

Not the same

as flying over

poem by August Zuo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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