My thoughts as a pigeon

Look to your surroundings.

See the comparisons in store.

Who does the most things?

Who makes more? 

Feeling ahead of the race,

Only to walk into a slamming door.

Why bother with the race?

I am sure there is no more. 

There is no more desire than faith. 

No more hope than life. 

Why bother? Said the pigeon. 

No one believes in ugly birds.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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