The Edge of the World

The edge of the world, how vast and deep.
It ends, right behind that corn, just seems to seep.
The robin on the wire, contemplates his life silently.
The sky, at his struggle, thunders a laugh violently.
The sparrow on the road, with his broken wing.
In his heart he knows that in Heaven, he will sing.
The squirrel looks down from his tree, full of pity.
Pity for the animals that live in the polluted city.
The bees buzz busily. Going from flower to flower.
Seeing all of this out the window, I feel sour.
But they give no heed to me, the animals. No way.
For they have their own problems, i have no say.
All I can do, is sit back and watch behind this glass.
I cannot feel the feeling of green, lush grass.
I cannot tell the robin his life is meaningful to me.
I cannot help that poor sparrow become free.
I cannot let the squirrel and I share feelings.
I cannot even aid the bees in their dealings.
All I can do, is sit, at the edge of the world.
and watch these stories like they have unfurled.