by B.Dawn ©
My fight with depression was long and severe
Then I met my girl, I knew hope was near.
She flies to my shoulder and begs for a kiss
She ruffles her feathers when beak meets my lips.
Who could feel so sad, when I'm really proud
She's learned many whistles, though little too loud.
She chases my plate, when dinner times here
Oh gosh what a mess, is my "Dirt Devil" near?
Before lights out, we watch TV shows
Does she know the plot, who really knows?
She plays with my hair, now mine sticks up too
My cockatiel's grey, I'm no longer blue