Poem
It’s a little bird that flies within the stormy cloud
Imitating the others, showing its proud, aloud.
Crossing the territory,
It’s drowning in the sea,
Can’t swim, it has no beam.
Its wings get wet
Trying hard to breath
Using its amulet
To avoid its death.
“Now, it’s time to sleep, Buddy!”
It hears someone murmuring,
No, it doesn’t want to sleep, “drain my body!”
Flapping its wings, it turns into a fascinating bird, singing.
Its friends are surprised by its new transformation
No one expects it would be the greatest
it becomes the orbit of affection
kind of far from what it was, the faintest.
The Sound of A Little Bird
It’s a little bird that flies within the stormy cloud
Imitating the others, showing its proud, aloud.
Crossing the territory,
It’s drowning in the sea,
Can’t swim, it has no beam.
Its wings get wet
Trying hard to breath
Using its amulet
To avoid its death.
It hears someone murmuring,
No, it doesn’t want to sleep, “drain my body!”
Flapping its wings, it turns into a fascinating bird, singing.
Its friends are surprised by its new transformation
No one expects it would be the greatest
it becomes the orbit of affection
kind of far from what it was, the faintest.
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