Our poems, so short but so mean
Our foams, guilty were we deemed

Her tear, the freights of the light
Her fear rides through every night
His eyes; focused on the sight
His alibis, all of unused might

The birds all of one very cry
The birds understand every single sigh

And if the birds could have opened up your heart
Us and the birds wouldn't be so far apart

Humans would fly; with no fake magic involved
Humans wouldn't cry, for falling is resolved

The birds, amazingly at work
The birds have a good reason to lurk