Wounded Eagle

I cannot work out if I fell off my perch or if I was kicked

And I cannot tell exactly how long I have been in this ditch

When I was in the nest my wings had fine feathers

But now they are ragged in shredded teathers

My claws are too blunt not as sharp as before

I find myself here on the floor with the poor

I don't mean to be rude or pass off as prude

But is it realistic to expect me to climb up and soar