Tô Sangrando, Tô Causando Dó

I’m not grown enough.

I was thrown from the nest 

way too soon,

fresh out of my shell. 

My skin still pink and bare and featherless.

And although there should have been leaves to pad my fall,

nothing but concrete was there to soften this crash.

My poor featherless wings cracked under my weight

while the city bustled around me.

I recoiled in panic,

I had seen nothing but the inside of a shell…

So I shivered at the stomping steps that sped past,

at the glaring lights the wind and smoke the honks and bangs and zooming metal

And there alone at the bottom of a light post 

cold and afraid,

bare and broken and barely breathing,

I cried for my mother.