The day the birds died

[Keith]

Of cracked walls, I am born.
Scratching biting and beaten,
moved my position to keep warm,
hunger rides my frame.

Blind sibling fights for survival,
losing grip I do the same.
No cover comfort here,
no swelling in my stomach.

Should my ground be guarded,
before tumble turns to hurt,
stretch my neck to be noticed
against yellow gnashing jaws.

The calm of night, no flight
we lay translucent in decay.

[Todd]

Hey this is really good. You could drop this in any of the critique forums and it would hold its own.

Hunger rides my frame

So, many great lines.

Well done.

[Leanne]

Agreed. This is spectacular writing. I can see that final line being quoted years from now... as the decay increases.

[Keith]

Thank you for your kind comments, but I have to confess as I cheated abit this was a rework of an early post and I already had some help on it from billy not sure any one understood it first time roundI did add the last line to kill them off so to speak