A Bird Of Hope...

I can neither build a nest,
Nor find myself a tie,
Soaring East, gliding West,
I have to be flying by.

Drifting per my whim,
I must love my freedom,
Yet, it all feels grim,
Places to go,
           nowhere to come.

Maybe, if I could sing,
Or, strut around with grace,
If I could do anything,
Have charm, if only a trace...

I wish I could resign,
Myself, to my unlucky fate,
But, it seems benign,
To hope, and never too late.