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Nestless
I remember that day like any other;
my whole world ended only five years ago.
My luscious evergreen forest, clear teal skies.
My majestic coffee ground nest,
gone in a blink of an eye.
They came out of nowhere;
I can still hear those distant echoes of oaks falling,
the smell of nauseous fumes filling the air.
Slowly turning the beautiful teal sky a smoggy gray,
I'm forever condemned to this oak prison.
I look up but those beautiful teal skies disappeared;
I only hear the echoes of waves crashing.
I can’t fly due to stress of losing more feathers,
and if I could I’d have no nest to go back to.
This oak prison is home,
a home with only oak walls.
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This was a poetry piece for the WFOP poetry contest, Inspired by the painting Disintegration by Aleta Stewart