A poem I wrote many years ago.

Like a little bird freshly hatched from the egg
The awaited hope—the dream is born
Like the mother bird with all her care and love
I tended—hour by hour—the helpless newborn
I dreamed of the day it would spread its wings and fly
The day it take this world by storm
And find itself at home in the sky
At last came that glorious day
When at last its wings were strong
And it perched atop the nest
Ready to move along
It spread its mighty wings
And soared above the ground
Until some rat-fink hunter
Shot the poor thing down!