By: Lucinda Kerrigan
April 14, 2009
Copyright pending
Spring is in the trees,
Where the blue bird's fly free,
They fly high into the sky,
Where they dance and sing.
They know the world's sorrows,
And hear our heart's bleed.
If I could be a bird,
I would be a bluebird,
A humming bluebird,
And pounce on everything.
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