A small bird fell from a tree,
And broke its wings and died.
A strong wind blew the sun away,
The whole of Nature cried.
 
It had a pair of wings,
Of white and black and red and green.
But now its eyes are,
The palest things I’ve ever seen.
 
Before it tripped and fell,
I herd it sing a sad song.
A song of perfect beauty,
Bout it’s thoughts that all is wrong.
 
The eyes of sadness looked at me,
For a moment so brief,
I saw a living beauty,
Full of pain and silent grief.
 
And as I jump from the moon to the sun,
And from Spring to Fall.
The colours of the broken wings,
Painted my soul.
 
And as I reach the stars,
Only to fall down again.
To live is to go through,
A beautiful pain.

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