iPhone Poetry

Poetry from my iPhone is like a bird
That lays eggs on a small branch
Leaving other bigger shapes and shelters

What does the little chosen branch feel?
May be one of admiration,
But I am the one who looks in awe
At human nature and it's priorities -

Those who can dare to dream of the moon
Care not the ones who look up
To them as their moon.

Those who get away with a thousand lies
Conspire against the ones who just
Take a feather out from their own bag,
The bag of lies

So this habit has seeped into me
Like a sigh triggers another,
Or like a tumbling rock pushes the other;
But my iPhone poetry will continue
Till angling men leave their romance
For smaller fishes alone.