The birdie's here once again,
Spreading its broken wings in rain.
Unafraid to come crashing sore,
Willing to be broken further more.
Only with a thought to sore high,
Steel-hearted birdie once again wants to fly.
Another attempt goes in vain,
Little thing silently enduring through all pain.
It landed on my window each day in row,
Without fail in blizzards and snow.
The little birdie always perceived hard,
Look at the beauty of this broken shard.
As the birdie went for another big leap,
Coddled in my room I took a peek.
Watched it from the warmth of my bed,
Withnessing it faceplant the ice ahead.
Birdie's attempts were quite ireful to see,
Like playing paino with a broken key.
But birdie's struggle never once inspired ,
Since I was too comfortable and tired.
Birdie seeked discomfort each day,
It refused to accept the fate's cruel play.
At times when completely loses it's strength,
Headstrong birdie would freeze to death.
Yet birdie flapped it's lifeless wings again,
As if all lost strength it had regain.
Till the very end it struggled quitely,
As my cold-blooded self sat watching idly.
Questions rising in my thoughtless mind,
Would the birdie grieve for what it left behind?
Will it regret trying too hard in hopelessness?
Or would the birdie smile glancing at it's mess?
Must be satisfying, for birdie atleast tried,
Not like me who watched time pass and cried.
Standing still for the fate to lead it's way,
Walking down whichever the chosen path may.
Or like a fool following along blindly,
Ending up in regretting the life entirely.
But the birdie never even succeeded,
Sometimes I wonder how the it's story ended.