The Elderly Eyrie
by weiyannn
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She sits on her cozy chair,
Feels the breeze of the autumn air.
Flexes her tired wings,
In the cold, how the joint stings.
Now in her Elderly age,
She feels like an Eyrie in a cage.
How she longs to be in the sky,
Flying among her peers so high.
Her gold eyes squint in the light,
Farewell, to her sharp sight.
Without her glasses she’s almost blind,
But strong stays her mind.
In the quiet of her room,
She lets the memories bloom.
Of the long days of play,
The triumph after a fray.
Thoughts of days gone by,
The Eyrie who was once so spry.
No longer able to soar,
Like she did long before.
But how lucky she must be,
To be able to think back with such glee.
The goodness of life,
Free of strife.
She sits on her cozy chair,
And looks at the grey in her hair.
The Elderly Eyrie,
Thinks of all she still can be.
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