The Albatros

This poem, by Baudelaire,

hit me right through the heart, the day I read it in college.

It sang a song, unknown, but familiar, as if meeting a long lost sister.

I remember understanding the Albatros, more than the men.

The men mocking it never even caught a glimpse of my attention, neither did the inflictions they caused on the bird.

There was something about the bird. 

This ugly,

 wonky looking, 

marvel of God.

I was jealous of this creature, because I knew it roamed through His kingdom.

All it knew, all it could do, was to play.

I found Baudelaire to have a sad perspective.

How can the Albatros feel hurt, when it knew not what hurt is.

How could the Men be evil, when they knew not what evil is.

If Mosquitos are not evil, or mischievous, 

all they want is to suck your blood.

Then why would others be so evil, or mischievous, 

if all they can do is suck your Soul.

-Marc Murad