The plot is at the end. Some poems contain a plot if they were stories. Like many stories, the plot is at the end. This poem is about a girl and a bird. So, who is this girl?
Girl and Bird
There is this bird outside my window, sitting there
From the inside, I look at this bird, with a sense of longing
Why doesn’t this bird fly, go on, elsewhere?
Instead of just sitting,
shouldn’t it be flying high
in the blue sky?
Inside the room, there is this girl, sitting there
From the outside, I look at this girl, her her is a mess
Why does she stay in with her wrinkled dress?
Doesn’t she have anything to go outhere?
Instead of just sitting on her chair
shouldn’t she be fixing her hair?
Go out and enjoy the world
even on a Winters day, when it’s cold?
There is this tree that stands tall,
been around for quite some time, he has seen it all
His long shadow covers both girl and bird
Isn’t that absurd?
As if this shadow is preventing them to move at all
To both of them I call
Is there anything I can do for you, to get you on your way?
You know, help you through the day?
There are this bird and this girl, startled by my words
as if they woke up from a strange dream
Bird flies onwards
Girl falls downwards
Under the safety of her bed
She starts to cry, she wants to forget
What it was like when some came nearer
She looks in the mirror and she will see
the girl, the girl is me
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