*This poem is for a baby bird, that died in front of my friend and I, last night. We wrote her this in peaceful remembrance.* --Italics are my lines, non-italics are my friend -- Eyes not like ice Like the darkness the little bird falls Black You can't see whether or not her soul is gone yet, as weightless she slips away in the palm of my hand. We only knew each other for a short while, but I will forever admire your freedom and we will meet in eternity with similar eyes. A beautiful feather, solemn face observing us as we cradle her into the great beyond. I'll always marvel at the way you looked at the end of your life. Peaceful and free, not even afraid to die. We dug your grave and set you in and quietly said goodbye.
Well I think I like your lines better than your friends. They seem more thoughtful to me and slightly more rhythmical. Particularly, "Peaceful and free, not even afraid to die."-because humans are almost always afraid, supposedly such complex beings, yet so simple and fearful in this aspect.
