Her feathers painted every hue of blue
and her beak sharp to chew even stew.
Though she may have been the size of a child's palm
her strength was equivalent to a nuclear bomb.
Right-to-left she flew soaring for a good bird's-eye view.
At least twice a day she ramned into walls,
but to her it was just her infinite fall.
She guarded the house as a knight,
giving every stranger a fright.
Everyday with her brought me a bundle of joy,
like a child gifted with a new toy.
But when she flew away it was a mournful day,
I cried knowing she would become the world's prey.
My bird, Lola.