The Blue Tit
I sit here, upon my tree,
Eating seed, oh bountiful tree.
I scuttle away with all my might,
As the machines work day and all night.
They cannot see me,
As small as I am,
But I can see them,
The face of cruel man.
I'm usually there,
Showing off my blue crest,
And now my trees gone,
Along with the rest.
Now I am flying away,
Looking for trees where to live.
Flying through the cars breath,
And will soon have life to give.
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The blue pitty
I like your subject and most of this poem... I would have liked it better if in the stanza:
They cannot see me,
As small as I am,
But I can see them,
The face of cruel man.
afeter "They cannot see me" ... Instead of saying "As small as I am" I think it would draw more attention to point out They cannot see me and the mention how bright and beautiful the bird is instead of small... perhaps:
They cannot see me
Though I be bright and pretty
For they are obsessed
with growing their city
We all know how cruel and selfish man can be!
I'll let you critique mine if you want:
I have a poem that is about global warming called "The Seed" that I will post
Keep up the good work!
Ray AKA Yobarney