The Bird (A Poem)

I wake up every morning to the tune of a bird, a tune that for many miles
could be heard. I wanted to know why this bird always sings. Does' he know
the joy and sometimes noise that he brings.

I asked "why do you always sing?
you started last month and every morning there off.

He finished his song looked at me and replied, haven't you ever sang, when
you've fallen in love?

I never have met a love the deep I had to sing, and If I had, certainly not as
loud as he did.

One morning game when I heard no song, curios... I had to know what had
gone wrong. I asked tis morning... no melody? how could this be?

Flying away he replied, if it was true love, she would have been singing with me.