A bird scratched me once,
but I didn't bleed.
Instead I pulled out a thread,
attached was a seed.
It ripped me open,
it cut me in half,
this screaming photograph,
silenced in glass
of endless desire;
this pelican on fire.
A Poem was written by Sophia Street. In between 3rd and 4th Avenue. Close to the gas station. Don't miss the turn because it's a pain to get back to.
