Recollection - First Poetic Impulse

my first poetic impulse was in my pre school days i must have been only four years old lying sweet on the kitchen floor one fine morning sucking on my milk bottle out on the tip of a pointed roof a magpie had gathered itself comfortably and started singing its heart out to the sun just beginning to warm up the new day its song was edged like the roof pointed here and there in the rhythm and fractured tone of a disconcerted soul complaining all the world's injustices to the heavens like a chirpy woman crying mad about poor treatments of her in laws it sang for so long i was provoked to ask the bird what it was pining all about about the black and white of its days? i asked and it sang i asked and it sang beak pointed to the sky i asked and it sang i asked and it sang until it thought it was done and flew away without a note leaving a trail of silence and melancholy on an empty roof, the morning and - an unrequited heart