Bluebird

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Bluebird, thou never do sing
Yes, to the world thou just bow as if it's thy king

I do forget what it sounded like
Was it reminiscent of the whistling done by the piper’s pipe?

Because thy just a Bluebird that cherishes someone else's dried roses

Bluebird, have thou ever dreamt of a ring?
Yes, thou ponder on how it would make up for the flaws in thy left wing

I do not think such a gem suits thee
Thou would believe it to be a charitable borrow and not a true devotee 

Because thy just a Bluebird that cherishes someone else's dried roses

Bluebird, will thou come back in the spring?
Yes, but the still present cold to thy glass bones it will cling

I do though still remember thy smile
It under the scrutiny of others cracks like old tiles

Because thy just a Bluebird that cherishes someone else's dried roses

Bluebird, thou stopped perching on thy favorite swing
Yes, now thou just makes a nest out on a thrown away rusty old thing 

I do recall how thou wishes for everyone else's dreams
Was their pettiness though worth all thy torn seams?

Because thy just a Bluebird that cherishes someone else's dried roses

Bluebird, for thou the raindrops will always sting
Yes, they like every missed chance pierce through thy drums with a ping

I do know thy eulogy will haunt as it speaks
It will tell of a romantic frail creature with tear stained cheeks

Because thy just a Bluebird that cherishes someone else's dried roses


Submitted: November 15, 2020

© Copyright 2020 Natalie McKenty. All rights reserved.

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