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2:02 a.m. - 2003-09-24 All it ever really wanted was to speak with the only voice god gave it. The men took its voice and put it on paper, stapled it to a series of boxes to be sold to small children who consume its contents and toss it away. The cuckoo bird never knew about this, and if they had, it would be difficult to gauge its response. More than likely, the cuckoo bird would say the only thing it could say. No one would be able to tell if it was angry or if it was sad or what. They’d just laugh at it and say, “Whoa! Somebody’s cuckoo for cocoa puffs!” This is an existence on par with a nightmare. That is why no merciful God could give the animals cognizance of our ways; to do so would only befit the souls of the beautiful and the damned.
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