Our thing is like
A small brown bird,
A beautiful beige, black and white
Spotted breast thrush
Thrashing wildly
In the barbed wire,
Trapped between this life and
Whatever comes next
Our thing is like
A small brown bird,
Grasping fiercely, twigs and fluff
And dreams
Of a home it cannot build
Our thing is like
A small brown bird,
Thrashing wildly
In the barbed wire,
Torn asunder, halfway
Between prison and freedom
Our thing is like
A beautiful beige, black and white
Spotted breast thrush
Trilling our last songs
Which beckon the attention
And saddens
The family and friends who can do nothing
But watch