deepundergroundpoetry.com
Little Birdie
All I do now,
Is sit on my porch,
And wait for my birdie to come.
For when the scent
Of death fills the air,
I know I'm going back
Where I came from.
Is sit on my porch,
And wait for my birdie to come.
For when the scent
Of death fills the air,
I know I'm going back
Where I came from.
Published 17th May 2011
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