Not a bedtime story I
I saw daddy shot a little bird.
The sound echoed through the woods and sent a trembling under my feet.
Daddy walked away, searching for his pray
but I got it first.
I took the little feather corpse and put it close to my face.
I breathed in -the smell of death-
the little bird would never fly again
(just like mommy
just like me).
So I made a wish to the Fairy Queen
to give daddy's soul to my little bird.
I step into a mushroom ring
and wait for the lights to bring me back to thee
you asked for a price
in order to grant my wish
and I said I would give away -what was left of me-
I would go blind
I would lose touch
I would plunge my voice -into the sea-
so bad daddys won't ever get their hands -again-
over little birds on the trees.
.
.
.
.
.
Picture: Pixabay