The Cost Of Blind Bravery

By Vihaan Riju

The pigeons of a certain society, Were not known to be mighty At the sound of a child’s soft step, They would fly as if to save their necks

But, soon, overtime, They learned not to define Noises that are harmless and benign As preventing one from staying alive

So, they didn’t even blink, When came the bicycle of young Tink Who honked and honked his tiny bell But in vain, for the rats with wings, Believed all to be well

But one pigeon, boldest of all, Budged not, even at the pound of a maul But such bravery was going to cost him, A fate terrible and grim

One day, by a large tree, The bold pigeon pecked at a pea When suddenly, came a car With frosted windows and the colour of tar

The machine drove into the spot, Of the pigeon, frightened not Noticing not the danger, Of the car of the Major

The Major, ignorant of the bird, Drove right through, and heard The crunching of bone and the squishing of flesh, Of the pigeon who returned not to his nest

So, my friends, young and old, Know when to be timid, and when to be bold Do this and, unlike the bird, be a blissful, happy stranger To grave and dreadful danger!

By Vihaan Riju