Two winged birds

I want to tell you a story, might be tough to swallow
Perception is reality they say, not sure I follow
That idea seems short thought to me, like a bird with one wing
You see, it is what it is-we once agreed
But as we age, that short winged bird no longer sings 
As a troupe, a cadre, we think ourselves invincible 
Standing alone, facing the world, alone is alone
Together is empowered
Empowered lends itself to entitlement, for no good reason
That poor bird feels none of the kind, entitled nor empowered
What of our mind? What sets us free?
Together is free? Freedom of what sort?
Join a group and become free?
I heard a song once about the season of loving
That seemed free to me
Truth is, iff I'm to be free, it is necessarily up to me
Too easy to mirror life's errors and wallow
In the muck, the mire, the disappointment and hate
A one winged bird, transformed my mind
How to survive? How do you carry on?
In good spirit we shared a laugh, and then you were gone
Chased away by two winged birds, a troupe, a cadre