A unique falcon goes for a fly.
The mourning is cool though sun's rays,
the bird's feathers flap in the sky,
free from what other birds say.

But as the sunrises in its' daily chore,
other falcons wake to take the free air,
some flying high so far away from the core,
others flapping strong, quickly, with confidence like a bear.

The unique bird is lost in the others.
Not flying as high, not flying as strong,
just an average falcon admist his brothers,
but freedom is not lost, nothing is wrong.

This falcon can still take pride
because he is unique on the inside.

Adam George