Window Pain

The pane of the window covered like a frost, Distorts the world that appears to be lost, A little bird perched on the inside sill, With broken wings and a shattered will, Pacing about in search of the view, With ruffled feathers its troubled and blue, Longing for that view it had once seen, Its that of a forest ever so green, Vibrant and stunning the redwoods and pines, Like a memory plays over again in its mind, The window is shut making it difficult to fly, But the bird on the sill will continue to try, Wanting the strength to push forward ahead, And leave behind all of the hurt and the dread, Straining and pulling the window won't budge, Feeling defeated by those that have judged, One final thrust with the strength the bird lacked, A glimmer of hope for the window has cracked, Peeked through the opening the little bird gasped, For it can again see the world just out of its grasp, Reaching and clawing but getting nowhere, It peers from the crack through eyes of despair, The feeling of failure yet again seems the same, It stares at the world through the damn window pain.