you walk through the crowd with a curious smile on your face you look like youre keeping a secret you stroll past the park and the houses and cars it all seems to pass right by your consciousness flare and you rush home with your hand over your pocket you gently shade it keeping safe what it contains you slide through the backdoor and rush up the stairs and you sit on the floor next to your bed youre lifting it slowly to see if its dead the wings rest in silence over its head and you cry and you feel so powerless but at least you tried you tried to help and in your heart you know thats rare these days