Alone on my bed,
On a cold, cute morning,
Birds chirping away,
Signalling a hopeful new day
Radiant that another morning has arrived,
To hunt afresh
To collect hay
To bake in the sun
To make food
And to just fly away.
Alone on my bed
I ask myself.
What if i was a like bird,
No, what if i was a bird
To wake up early in the morning
And melodiously sing my lungs out,
Fly through the day
And perch at a nearby tree to rest,
Collect food enough for me,
And my young ones for only a day.
And not worry about tomorrow,
About the future
About destiny.
Would my life be any better?
