Welcome to our story little birdie Jack,
his father and his uncle and his grandpa’s dead.
Welcome him in our midst, he knows not he’s alone;
he doesn’t want to know it, he prefers his broken home.
If you’d ask him, he’d remember that one day
when he saw a pretty female fly along his way.
Urges yet unknown befell that bird of paradise;
a power in his bottom made him jerk into the sky.
Vainly he pursued the tail of that lovely hen,
to stop the pain he felt incredulously from that perfect ten.
His feathers and his muscles seemed possessed by foreign force,
scary and yet prideful was his flight along his course.
Next time, he decided, he would readied have his dance,
not another time would he let pass by such a chance.
The unknown forces swept his body through the air to see,
moving in the weirdest ways was he above the trees.
Shyly first he spread his wings and bared his vivid chest,
let that lordly intuition guide him, showing off his crest.
Slowly grew a confidence that he deserved to mate,
fragile and yet hopeful was his prescience of his fate.
But just as he had learned to find in boyish pride delight,
in the corners of his eyes he saw his mother glide.
Pity and some shame he saw in his sole guardian’s gaze,
little did she speak to him the whole rest of the day.
Worry soon came over him as she withdrew her love,
worried was he much, did not expect her harsh rebuff.
Eventually, they sat down for a tweet in their small nest,
mother told him how ashamed she was of him in jest.
How could he, her good bird, be so boastful in the heat?
Shame had he brought over her by showing such conceit.
Broken has her trust he, through his indecent display,
imposed his dirty secrets upon decent birds of prey.
A riot in his insides did commence when she had spoken;
that fire, still so foreign, left a scar as it was broken.
Evil was it’s nature, so he’d fight to keep it hidden;
no one was to know the secret devil he’d been ridden by.
Of his valor, mother was quite proud, which made him glad;
he could be her hero, even if his core was bad.
Swear did he to mother and all female birds and him;
nobody would suffer from the devil deep within.
And as he grew, the bird did see the devil in the others;
shamelessly they preyed upon the females like his mother.
Righteous rage immersed his senses every time he’d know
another male, a devil, take possession of a girl.
Tried to save a lot of girls did our heroic bird;
fought the devil with all vigor, in his self and in the world.
Desperation grew on him, though, as he failed his task;
succumbed to his desire in his dreams beneath the mask.
In the devil’s track he followed, thus, to fix the damage,
consoled the broken souls the devil left so badly ravaged.
Thankful were the female birds of paradise to Jack,
none of them, though, thanked him through an offer of her back.
Empty felt poor Jack, and empty did he think was life;
he knew nothing else so he concluded all was strife.
Existential grew his pain, the devil was too strong;
about to fail was he the task, unworthy to belong.
But Jack would not just give up, as he is a bird of pride;
devise he would a plan to get the poor girls on his side.
He would make them love him, him the bird who was not spoiled;
he would make a lot of steam without having to boil.
Charm did he, poor Jackie, many bored out female hens;
with his wit and humor he was better than all men.
Learned to make them sexual without tweeting of sex;
learned to prove he did not need the devil for those steps.
Yet the task was arduous and many nights he cried,
in agony he suffered through the blackness of the nights.
Stunted was his flight and not authentic was his dance;
painful was this life, he thought, and haunted was his chance.
Much as he did try, his foe – the devil – never left;
long did it not take until of hope he was bereft.
Every time a girl looked through the surface to his heart,
he died a thousand deaths of shame that tore his gut apart.
Many years went by and Jack’s demeanor grew quite cold;
his eyes carried the story of a sadness that’s untold.
A story of a life that’s harsh, that nobody survives,
a life that’s not worth living, yet Jack did not want to die.
It was on a fateful day that Jack flew by a vine
which, drunk and full of sorrow, he indifferently dined.
Little did he know the vine contained some DMT,
and so he quickly plunged into a strange reality.
Mystic worlds of memories and fractals filled his mind
and panic filled the heart of Jack in ways hard to describe.
Deep into the rabbit hole fell Jack, all hope unlearned,
and at the bottom, finally the devil took his turn.
Never had this birdie’s soul endured this kind of terror;
blindly jerked around, condemned itself for such an error.
Apart was torn Jack’s body and in madness lost his mind,
his senses lost their meaning and no memory he’d find.
Tired of resistance, Jack embraced annihilation,
let the devil take a hold of him and his sensations.
Lost went he in chaos and all hope and joy were lost,
gone was all he lived for and forgiven all the cost.
The next morning, our Jack awoke into forgotten life,
suddenly remembering his mother’s brutal lie.
Spent had he a life in hatred of his sexual dance;
finally it’s his again, so we can get a glance.
Welcome to our story older birdman Jack,
who got his life and joy and sex game back.
Welcome him in our midst, show him he’s not alone;
he really needs to know it now, to leave his broken home.