by kevinhylee

there was a bird finding home

but in this city all alone

a new home

hardly does she own


hopelessly she picked a tree

and thought

that tree could be her shelter

and lot


they talked

they sang

they danced along

but not as the nightingale’s mourn


one morning she suddenly felt wrong –

it talked but never walked

it sang but never ran

which is

not a songbird’s want


but it didn’t tell her a secret it’d kept

it would love her till the day she left