The Sad Birdie
Vermillion red and a streak of gold,
A beautiful head and a tail made of coal.
The bird sang happily before,
But now it has lost the will to soar.
The open sky,
The clouds passing by,
It no more calls to him as beauty and blithe.
Afore he would dream about the stars,
The moon and the horizon so far.
The world full of colors and happiness spread wide.
Now everything seems to have a gray and dusty coat,
He breathes but feels dead and empty inside,
It’s strange how circumstances change,
The trees are still green, yet nothing’s the same.
The sad little birdie,
He doesn’t sing anymore,
If you pass by his nest,
All you will hear is the water trickling by the shore.