Flightless

Magnificent colors in vibrant hues
Reds, yellows, greens, blues.
Her downy plummage seems quite an array
It speaks of things she cannot say.

But everytime she tries to take flight
it is useless, a losing fight.
Her wings are clipped
Earth bound she'll stay.

What good are the colors
if the wings cannot spread?
If the colors will never be seen
from far overhead.

Her colors were meant to paint the sky
And share with the world from way up high.
She will never fulfill her one true duty
Because somebody decided to cage her beauty.

Miss Understood

She lets out a low rumbling threat
Inside the grey billows, her tension builds
Accumulation of sorrow, pent up for so long
A gusty arm ushers her in
and she announces her arrival with an outraged clap.

Her eyes weep so many unspoken hurts,
Each its own wound but part of one broken soul.
She pours out her pain
and releases screams of suffering.

The earth receives her wrath in torrents
An innocent bystander it would seem to most,
but not in the least.
She gives what she has been given.

Slowly, her sadness runs dry
Quietly she sulks out, her voice dying down to a whisper.
Everyone has heard her, but nobody really listens.
The hear the thunder, they feel the rain
and yet they never really understand her pain.