There was a fledgling
Who, albeit hatched in the mud of terrible, difficult, prior circumstance
If nurtured and tended with infinite care
And goodwill and love,
Would have grown and spread her golden wings
To transport you to gorgeous unheard-of landscapes
That any soul will be fortunate to experience in a lifetime.
Though she so wanted to grow into that splendid proud creature
Whose unbelievably powerful wings would fly you to heaven
That awesome potential (for reasons I fully understand)
Was scary and threatening to you,
Threatening of disaster and a catastrophic fall.
And so, though I would never blame you for this,
You decided to squeeze the life out of her.
And, not fully convinced this was for the best,
With much doubt and agonising second thoughts, therefore
You carried this out slowly and so endlessly painfully
Till one day, her ever-weakening struggles over,
She fell, lifeless, to an icy ground.
I weep for her.