In Flock Formation

We’re all vying for ‘Top Dog’ position,

Slamming into brick walls,

Closed ears spewing lyrics from has-been’s.

We came to a world that was too big,

With little spaces in between,

But now we’re left to fly south on our own.

The moon our beacon light,

The sun just a bit too bright-

I’m reaching out to find my shades, my eyes too weak to see the blades your accusations are slinging my way.

They’re throwing up seeds;

It’s gritty, it’s grainy… it is sand.

I peck at your hand;

It’s fuzzy, it’s feathery…

It’s blood stained.

We leave to always come back,

If only just to test our wings

In flight to be the migratory leader;

The hive-brained enforcer.

We spread our wings in flight

Keeping the V-formation as best we can

Hoping no harm comes to find us…