Migrate

A bird, A sea, A destiny
A scowl, A flare, hereditary
A drink, Salt, Salt of sea
Anger denounced at an early stage

Why should the bird not fly away,
Migrate to a happier place,
Where the weathers warm
Calypso is a harsh cold

Blackbird!
Or was it BlackBeard?
Sailing a ship, of immortality
Yet mortal as self

Just a temporary gig
Give the bird a swig,
And tell him to be on his way
Never re-open the deck,
For lust patiently waits

In essence the bird flees,
But from what,
He is unwanted in originality’s birthplace
Give the bird a lighter, the girl some mace
Send the bird on its way,
For his call is un-returned
For his wings float
But in mind and bodies wants nothing is met

So do not return the once sought call
Do not send, the once searched message
Do not text the question…
The bird chose to migrate and left the twenty first century behind
There is an answer