Fallen seagull
lying there on the ground
disheveled shape
made from a plastic bag
one day you’ll fly free
and be reborn
from the streets you call home
Fallen seagull
lying there on the ground
disheveled shape
made from a plastic bag
one day you’ll fly free
and be reborn
from the streets you call home
at night
I hear their call
the ceaseless cries
of hunting in the dark
their eyes do see
all the world
from above they fly
as down below they hide
the law of nature
they must abide