Calling

Black Bird

He roared aloud before his last fight; for his God-right to be alive, in peace.

He trudged and swam, and waded and ran; and then rested at heaven’s gate.

No hate; no pity, no rage; Just love and a sincere plea to play.

To smile and jump, and climb on humps; to learn, discover, grow old with his brother.

None of it happened; these simple needs denied, he cried; he drowned and died.

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