The Foreign Bird

The foreign bird I knew him well trying to blend in Speaking the language too flawlessly So, the embarrassment when he On occasions, got it wrong. It was not his mother tongue so His speech was too slow and learned. Made the language into disharmony In a country where people speak The tongue with a certain insouciance. He, although people are polite, hasn’t Got many friends they sense, I think, His tragic loneliness like an echo Of a country, he left behind that he Instead of embracing his otherness Tried to hide it.