I live first in a little house with my mother
And lived there very well, hoping for life,
I thought the world was small and round
And made of beautiful blue shell.
I live next in a little nest with siblings
Nor needed any other to tell me more
I thought the world was made of straws,
And nestled by my mother for a living.
One day, I flew from my best place
To see what I could find for my living
I said the world is made of green leaves,
I have been very blind in my thinking.
At length, I flew beyond the tree for more,
Quite fit for grown-up labours and minds
I don't know how the world is made
And neither do my neighbours do.
Thank you all for reading.
Image imagined with Meta Ai.
