The Lonely Bird
One cold morning
I saw a lonely bird
Its feathers falling
Shaking ver bad
Close to the lonely bird
The lies a stream of water
Who knows that?
Maybe she liked the weather
I wish I moved closer
I could have seen her well
How clever?
She saw all my plans
I looked back at my watch
It was getting noon
With the bird in touch
I stood there alone
Francis Omariba
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 07/05/2024
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