The Sad Bird
A
Anil Kumar Panda
0
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I hear a bird in the morn
Sitting on a branch and sing
Sometimes it turns its small head
Towards me, sometimes it flaps its wings
I see the bird in the noon
Sitting on a branch looking sad
Drops of tears hang in its beady eyes
And I can only guess that its love is dead
I don't see the bird again
It does not come to sit and sing
May be it meets the fate of its love
And lays silent without flapping its wings
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