Some people are like birds, so fragile, so small,
You lift them with kindness, you give them your all.
You teach them to fly, you mend every break,
You offer your shelter, your time, your own stake.
They flutter, they rise, they soar through the sky,
You smile from below as they learn to get by.
But once they're aloft, in the warmth of the blue,
They forget who it was that carried them through.
And worse than forgetting, they turn with disdain,
Dropping their mess on your heart and your name.
No thanks, no return, just a stain on your grace—
A mark of betrayal, a slap to the face.
Yet still you keep helping, though bruised and betrayed,
For wings are worth lifting, no matter who strayed.
You know not all birds will leave you defiled—
Some fly back with love, some land reconciled.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem