The little bird that wanted to change the world

I was sitting here on the computer in the silence of the morning .A little bird made a persistent racket in my garden from the branches of the guava tree , the shrillness of its sound far disproportionate to its size. I was trying to change the world on the pages of but the little bird would not let me. Only later did I find out that the bird had the same mission :

My mission is hers too

Here I want to have a word with the little bird
Who makes a racket in my garden in shrill tones,
Persistently, distracting me from my mission
Of substantively changing the world, that is,
If I can get in edge ways in the conversation.
Failing language I try highly feeling poetry
Incorporating a lot of sting and biting irony
Who knows I may eventually silence her that way
The trouble is that she too wants to change the world.

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