On Ace Street, the power lines stand tall,
Electricity humming, a constant thrall.
But in the midst of this urban scene,
A sight to behold, like a dream.

An eagle descends, with wings outstretched,
To land on the pole, with grace unmatched.
A symbol of freedom, strength, and pride,
A reminder of what we hold inside.

With eyes that gleam, like golden fire,
It surveys the land, with fierce desire.
And though it perches on a man-made post,
It’s still the king, the ruler of the most.

For a moment, time stands still,
As we watch the eagle, with silent thrill.
And as it takes off, to soar up high,
We’re left with a sense of wonder and sigh.

For in this city, where power lines reign,
The eagle reminds us, we’re not so plain.
That we too can rise, with wings unfurled,
And be the masters of our own world.