deepundergroundpoetry.com
Bird (Pint-Sized Poem #42)
The bird hit the window.
But it didn't die, it lived.
Instead it sang me a song.
And then flew away.
It is the epitome.
Of doing such hard work.
For such a little reward.
Oh, how I wish
I could be more
like that bird.
But it didn't die, it lived.
Instead it sang me a song.
And then flew away.
It is the epitome.
Of doing such hard work.
For such a little reward.
Oh, how I wish
I could be more
like that bird.
Published 20th Nov 2014
| Edited 15th Sep 2017
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likes 4
reading list entries 1
comments 6
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
21st Nov 2014 1:53am
21st Nov 2014 8:42am
Anonymous
- Edited 15th Mar 2022 6:45am
21st Nov 2014 4:56am
<< post removed >>
21st Nov 2014 8:43am
Thank you for the comment, and I'm glad you enjoyed the poem.
- Paige Rider
- Paige Rider
21st Nov 2014 11:10am
Great little poem. Reminds me of something Dorothy Parker would write and I love Dorothy Parker. Thank you!
21st Nov 2014 11:45am
Thank you, I enjoy Dorothy Parker too, so being compared to her is a really big compliment. I'm glad you enjoyed the poem and thank you for your comment.
- Paige Rider
- Paige Rider
