Wednesday, March 23, 2016

no chance to fly


The little birdie dies
This morning as I try
Shaking the nest hearing no chirping
I try a few times I don't get it

I use a ladder
Standing atop to look down
It is a body of dried skeletons
Lying on top of its nest

I peeped a few times
Not knowing it is the little birdie
It is the only one in the nest
It's small beak opened dead as such

I heard the little chirping yesterday's morning
Finally I thought the egg hatched
But I didn't realize it died this morning
All dried up a sad way to die


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