Forever the Poor Poor Bluebird Getting Crushed under the Creators of the Moon While a Photo is being Taken, Liam Garrett

The bluebird flies one last time

The camera flash dies out

Sometimes the hillside will fall

And the sun will set

Stars will be shot with the gun.

That must be how the moon got its craters

I was once a child of the moon

Until the shadow died.

I was your child

I was the book on the top shelf that you couldn’t reach 

I was the gift that you didn’t want

I was the fire that burned down your forest

It was me 

I’m sorry.

I was the reason your life is no longer happy 

I was the wave that washed away your city

It was me 

I’m sorry.

You look at me with pity and sorrow

As I drown in the snow.

The moon will rise one last time

And the memory in the camera is taken up

The bluebird’s wings are twisted 

It will no longer take flight.