Look at the birds way above the sky,

They always fly without a single hi.

Chirping, singing, orchestrating,

A tune quite alike to a lullaby.

Though innocent in nature,

They're still hunted by mankind.

Using a sling to shot them in the wings,

Gasping for breath to the ground they're bound.

Even to this equation of cruelty,

Did not amount them to attack.

They remained to what they are,

A sweet song tainted with a scar.

Where most strike when provoked,

They resort to flying away.

Though to emotions their heart's soaked,

They opt to go on with their day.

With the challenge of life,

Be like the birds.

Sing despite the odds,

Fly despite the resistance.

Sweet stuff don't create strife,

But they do give a prick of pain.

Unlike death guaranteed by knife,

They rendered the host insane.