Lame pigeons stumbling
Wincing as they walk
What if they could talk?
What if they could choose?
To continue or not
To end a life without toes?
What do you think they'd decide?
To live on - or suicide?
We know what it is to walk
We imagine their loss and baulk
But they have a gift we cannot buy
They know what it is to fly!
Though walking be painful
Ever their eye
Is focused on the sky
Should you be in pain
Could you do the same?
And feel your dejected spirits lift
As you remember a higher gift?
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