I wish I was made of feathers
Oh, my life would be so much better

Birds don't just fly, they kiss clouds
All they have to do is sing to be found

Paintings water down
Cries are more invisible than a frown

Beauty is painted on their innocent plumes
None are ugly, they all share that equality, they all share that room

Every night they rest with care
They wake early, energized, bare

Mothers love and hold their young
And don't force them to stay for long

But even birds who rule our skies
Sing through our sighs
Captivate our eyes
Spend their days constantly searching for something to nourish their cries

Still, Life is pain, so they say
But birds flit, fly, cry, and wither away