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Flightless
It lost its wings
flightless
To no longer soar
concrete jungle
it became nothing
Value
it bowed its head
sadly
and cried
for there was nothing to be done.
People offered
Help
Its possible
the doctor's opinion
You may fly again.
Anaesthetic
when it woke
It was difficult to move
it was heavy
Guilt
and It could barely move
Its wings were there,
Shiny
The doctor smiles.
Try it
Not the same
as flying over
poem
by
August Zuo
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