Feathers like stars in the wind
Flapping silent and clear
In a state of pure solitude
Do you wander alone.
To watch everything from above
Black eyes that scrutinize the land
No need to bother
Giving land lubbers a helping hand
For they do not bother
To give a hand to you.
They do not notice you hover
In that still, suspended manner you do
But you can see them all
Shuffling along doing their own things;
Their more "important" things.
Who would want to be your friend?
You are just an object to them
They could not care less.
But no matter how superior they become
You still hover above them
More superior than they all are
Even if you are silent
Flying without a word or opinion.