Man's Bird

He speaks to me
As if I were a bird
Perched delicately upon his finger
Willing to listen
As he is to I
To notes of frail yearning

Confessing secrets
As if I were a bird
Unable to tell
Although I wont
His heart too delicate,
Strong for the world

And I will stay quietly,
Perched delicately upon his finger
Sharing grim encounters of the world
But what is true suffering?
His words ask me this
As if his frail heart does not know.