A Baby Eagle

By Bobby Brown
…I wrote this poem after 23 years a fast food slave, I’m only beginning to see the damage it’s done on my mind, body, and spirit…

A BABY EAGLE fell from flight, fortunately without harm
Only to land in the closure, of a chicken farm

And so he imitated the chickens, the “pecking” and the “squawk”
Never more to fly again, only to “awkwardly ” walk

And through the years he would conform and never really see
The fullness of his potential, and what he was created to be

But as his wings grew larger, there came that destined day
For he arose from THE DOLDRUMS and he quietly flew away…

You can purchase Bob’s book of poetry here:

Seated Above, Looking Below