What does that bird think of me?

I wonder what that sparrow thinks of me, As it flits so easily from branch to branch on tree, While I’m stuck here earthbound, decried to strut all day. A silly flightless biped with arms that only flap and flay. Humans are naked beasts with clothes worn forlorn except at the beach. Birds are ornately adorned in beautiful feathers, all over they reach. Birds call and serenade each other with songs, chirps and trills, With no need for endless verbiage and debate about bills and wills. Birds thrill in joyous flocks soaring and swarming in formation, While humans gather in angry crowds for fights in condemnation. Somehow, I think that birds love to belittle and mock me, For they're the ones, free to fly and frolic in fountains, carefree.