The Bird

A baby bird is born, in the tall, tall tree
His father went for food, and so did he
But the precious baby bird was not meant to
He was exploring, flying, he had no clue
Father bird had lost the chick, looked in trees
and in piles of sticks
But fur and feathers? Definitely not around
He checked one last time, on the ground
Meanwhile, the baby bird was having a blast!
He was playing with bugs, and running fast
He just wanted to be independent, you see
He loved the environment, and now he was free!