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

 

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