A sheltering shell

A sheltering shell

Feathers have little weight to its hold,

colored in ways for one to behold,

shaped to comply with a birds’ need,

they are needed, the birds will concede.

Feathers are soft and gentle to touch,

used for writing today not so much,

put in pillows for a softer sleep,

others made from wool from a sheep.

Feathers tickle and they can even cut,

they allow a bird’s ego to freely strut.

Watching one fall slowly to my side,

an understanding this one died.

Of the birds, the people have no care,

their feathers worn in hats and in hair.

Their existence ignored for a view,

an accessory just for the beauty of you.

Feathers are a symbol of life’s needs,

a symbol of how a metaphor bleeds’,

of beginning and to its eventual end,

equal to other metaphorical trends.

Feathers are natures softer sided act,

from the result of an egg that is cracked.

What are the feathers for I can tell,

for a birds protective sheltering shell.