iKbinInaKatze

Paper I folded From paper it came There it was with beautiful plumage With colors I could not name I took it from my teacher's hand And quickly I ran away To where the bird could fly in open air And I could watch it if I may From paper it had been born But to me it was alive And to see it fly free Was my goal to strive It left my hand The bird, it I threw But it fell limply to the ground This was new! I stared at it dumb Why it should swimming in the sky But it lay on the ground and I yelled "What bird cannot fly!" A person who walked past Had heard my loud cry And picked the bird up and said "It is the bird with clippe