Born To Die ((too hot sidewalk))

Too-hot sidewalk,
crumbling down,
grey and sweating
in this day with no sound

Poor little birdy,
dead on the grey,
wonder if last night
it realized today was it's last day

No more song to escape its throat
no more air within its wings
i wonder if the world will remember
remember the song the bird used to sing

Ants are devouring the feathers
flesh is beginning to smell dead
death is too prevelant,
and blood trickles out its sweet head

I wonder aloud as I'm walking alone
did this bird have babies waiting for her?
did she have someone who relied,
who needed her as their provider?

Does it even matter?
we're just born to die
I wonder if this bird is in heaven,
I wonder if up there she still flies