917: Birds On The Edge

Rating: 5.0

On the golden sand of the Illiot’s beach,
On an winter afternoon, seated were two birds,
Otherwise smooth talking birds, had a tiff,
One was pushing the other of the edge,
On the parapet of the broken bridge,
Once they went all the way up to the,
Other watery end, not a suicide spot,
But still scary enough in the lonely night,
Before she fell down she had to fly,
She knew she was being pursued in the sly,
In the renewed chat, the differences prevailed,
She took off again, as he kept watching,
Waited for her to come back, kiss and make up,
But she had other plans, chose her life on her own terms.

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