The Little Blue Jay
The little girl held him,
As he died.
Hoping,just hoping,
That he would survive.
But in her hands,
Is were he died.
He couldn't here,
The little girl cry.
Up on the hil,
She buried him,
That little bird,
Now dead and limp.
She made him a grave,
Were he could lay.
She will never forget,
That sad,sad day.
Copyright © Rose Kinniburgh | Year Posted 2011
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