My friend bird

Another non-rhyming poem. Metaphoric.

My Friend Bird

By Shawn P Cassidy

He stands alone

as four others fall like broken omens.

A sentinel of fury,

towering in a world that never listens.

No lips to move,

no tongue to shape a single sound"

yet he speaks in a language

sharper than teeth,

colder than steel.

Two words.

Silent.

Deadly.

A message carved from the marrow of his rage.

He expresses what I bury"

the hostility I swallow,

the anger I pretend not to feel.

He becomes the voice

I’m too human to release.

His presence lingers,

etched into memory like a scar.

His words"

if you can call them words"

cannot be erased.

And when the world grows loud

and my spirit starts to fracture,

I call on him.

My quiet companion.

My dark little omen.

The friend who never speaks

yet somehow helps me heal.

© 2026 Shawn P. Cassidy. All rights reserved