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Pigeons
I watch as the pigeon pecks at a stale piece of bread,
and listen to the tramp's cries for salvation go ignored,
while trustworthy drunks sip from pints of betrayal,
and men in suits sip at coffee cups
and cheat on their wives.
I see them all, rushing around,
bumping into one another
as they head for cars they can't afford,
with names on shoes they can't pronounce,
trying desperately to be excepted
in a world that they’ve abandoned.
Their dreams have become stale,
but they still peck away
although insipid.
And the tramp is saved,
he just doesn't know it.
Sometimes,
I bet they cry
in the shower
where no one can see —
not even them.
Pigeons may look brave,
but sometimes,
they're just stupid.
© Ernist Lost-his-way
and listen to the tramp's cries for salvation go ignored,
while trustworthy drunks sip from pints of betrayal,
and men in suits sip at coffee cups
and cheat on their wives.
I see them all, rushing around,
bumping into one another
as they head for cars they can't afford,
with names on shoes they can't pronounce,
trying desperately to be excepted
in a world that they’ve abandoned.
Their dreams have become stale,
but they still peck away
although insipid.
And the tramp is saved,
he just doesn't know it.
Sometimes,
I bet they cry
in the shower
where no one can see —
not even them.
Pigeons may look brave,
but sometimes,
they're just stupid.
© Ernist Lost-his-way
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