I can hear what many can’t
I can hear the rustle of leaves and the chirp of birds
I can hear the rhythm in the humming of bees
I can hear the heartbeats of those struggling to live
I can hear peace in a meadow where humans don’t exist

I can smell what many can’t
I can smell the heartiness of bread that only the poor can fathom
I can smell the sweet scent of nectar on flowers
I can smell the pureness in the air when the grass is around
I can smell the reek of bitterness from within humans

I can see what many can’t
I can see the beauty in humans that they cannot
I can see the end of the world, burning to ashes
I can see dedication in those who want to prevent it

And although I have gifts
I am merely an observer; observing
A bird easily ignored
But I have senses that many do not