Perched on a wire, above a Los Angeles boulevard.Tracking life anxiously.
Time is irrelevant, sunsets fall while sunrises wake.
Thoughts continuously come and go.
I stay perched.
Waiting for that reason to fly.
This heart races when the wind blows
always encouraging flight.
I only nuzzle within my plumage gripping with ease.
The wind dies, the chance has passed.
When will this stillness crumble?
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