Wed, 01/18/2017 - 11:31 -- Bricole

Gentle little thingFragile as can beThe smallest bird you will ever seeThe bird is molting Oh how can it beThe green little feathers Lay on the ground all scattered aroundShe could have lived longerAnd with me Gentle little thing Fighting I pleedThe tiny bird flew toward the beautiful white lightAnd with her last little cooShe said I love youDisappearing into the blue above right above you 

This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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