You sang for me in the morning at the break of dawn;
Poured out your heart in some crazy mixed up songs.
Loved to be held you'd fall asleep in my arms.
I'm sorry, Kahle, that I couldn't protect you from harm.

Sick for a while but you masked it well;
Until your breathing became fast as hell.
The vet was worried and so was I --
I'm sorry, Kahle, I really tried.

You made it through that very night.
And I really thought you would win this fight.
Yet when morning came I suppose it was too late.
There simply was no second to wait.

Helpless you laid distressed in my lap
As I rushed you to the vet.
We didn't get far;
Not even a mile.
You had been dying all the while.

With a flutter of those angelic wings
You sang your lost song;
Danced your last dance
And lost to what was wrong.

(I had wanted a cockatiel so badly that when I bought one, she only survived two months. The vet thought I bought her with a cold and i didn't know birds masked their illnesses. Yes, an animal lover I am.)