Sad little bird

Sometimes when I fly,
I am able to soar over the mountains of shit,
that stink up my life.

I zoom above the rotten decay.
My head is clear and my thoughts, pure.

But, often during my flight,
the clouds thicken and blur my vision.
So I dip and sway, looking for a break in the clouds.

I begin to smell the rotten decay,  as I dip
lower and lower until my wings scrape
the tragic debris of my life where I can no longer fly,
and I am no longer free.

I become the sad little bird who has lost her wings.
Lost her way,
and lost her joy...

S