Dwindling Birds
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A group of odd birds took off from me as of late.
Hovering over my sleek head, gazing persistently.
I was feeling depressed and desolate.
Same as a purple bit afar away on a swingletree.
I swore angrily they wouldn't turn dark.
Farmers no longer dread local herds.
From then on, I returned to lark.
I'm excited to watch the vile birds.
Soaring and tweeting over the azure sky.
Simultaneously, I hung tight for his reply.
The birds were mysteriously gone absent.
I notified them, which made me upset.
In no instance to return, I swore I would.
I've never depended on an endless word.
Copyright © Sotto Poet | Year Posted 2021
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