
It seems the pigeons have forgotten their wings
The gutter-birds remain, always
They flap and flounder
Fight and fatten and wallow
And with some effort, even manage to lift off
But they do not fly
They do not escape
They have forgotten the potential of their feathered apendages
Oblivious to their own capabilities,
The pigeons remain shackled
And day after day they fight the same fight
over the same discarded scraps
And all around the world,
The other pigeons are doing the same