The bird lied there on the floor. He had no one to look out for. He just kept on trying to stand again but he was wounded. He looked up. The sun shone bright but failed to fill in hopes in his heart. It was not just the wound he carried outside, it was the wound he hid inside.
He had the picture of his mother feeding him very clearly in his mind. When he left his nest he knew it will be tough but he was hopeful. Hopeful, that one day he will go back. Go back to where he belonged, to his people. But there he lied, lonely. He had no one to call his own in this place. But going back empty handed was not an option.
He tried harder and managed to stand up. He could barely walk but he had to live through this. He had to go back one day with his hands so full that he never have to leave again.