there is a blue bird vagabond
some say bad motherfucker
stepping strong
others have yet to hear
how he chirps to those songs
of old Lou Reed
soft spoken when he chews on the worm
self imposed exile
in the cage forged from fleeting truths
decoy soul within the vulture kettle
there is a blue bird wanderer
hopping from dream to dream
pecking at the hollow of his heart
in hopes of softening the cruel stare
of abandoned turtledoves
words less spoken 
This is masterfully penned. I can feel the spirit rising above the cat calls and derision.
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mic drop
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Wow! You made me feel his way of being in this life. So oft misunderstood, but necessary to just accept. Powerful write, Marisela!
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