Like the Birds

The strangled cry of the crows
as they circle the gray steeple
my parents watching pale, but alive
a little cracked in the face
we've forgotten our burdens by the road
but who really cares anyways

Who's to say we're not flying?
Who's to say we're not ok?
Like birds soaked in the rain
we struggle to make it home
trapped in this dying world
we just want to get out alive