Broken shells and ugly siblings, on the day we hatch.
Mostly blurry black and whites, and so we latch
onto mother's soft familiar voice, her caw reverberates,
and soon I hope she'll puke into my horribly unsophisticated palate.
And never fly away again, and leave us all exposed...
Sister wants to fly into the light.
Brother's thinking maybe Sister's right.
Delusional, the both of them, they don't know any better.
It's terrifying out there, she can try but I won't let her.
I just don't think we're safe, now our outer shells are broken.
But here's hopin'.