It used to be a little birdie,
Full of hopes and dreams,
It used to be a little birdie,
Who had not known anguish and screams,
Mama birdie, Papa birdie, gave it the world,
but the world was a fraction of a little birdie's goal,
As a little birdie, as a incy wincy birdie,
It couldn't flutter it couldn't fly,
But little birdie had a dream,
It wanted to flutter, it wanted to fly,
It wanted to go impossibly high,
It had a dream out of a toon,
Little birdie wanted to fly to the moon
Little birdie, grew up,
It became big and strong,
It learned to flutter,
It learned to fly,
Only to find it's dreams as far to reach as ever,
It flies high,
only as high as everyone else,
It feels average, just another in the flock,
Little birdie dawn's,
It may never achieve its dream.
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As many of my poems this is not the end, if you guy's have any ideas, you are free to complete it.
