A little Bird flew far and wide,
Across Continents it flew by,
Searching for that one perfect tree.
He wished to call it home,
After the years and years he had roamed,
And at last he found it!
The prettiest tree in starlet blooms,
That shone like stars,
Bright even in gloom.
He settled down on a branch full of flowers,
Didn't know it wasn't an answer to his prayers.
Ready to call it Home so quick
In a few brief moments of attraction
That made him regret and grieve,
The branch didn't meet his expectations.
Wounded, pained, and hurt
Blood-soaked, he fell in the dirt,
Because he had forgotten the obvious
In his search for home so alacrity,
That there could be thorns ready to cut easily
Even in the most flawless-looking beauty.
~ Suranya
