A sparrow once flew by my window
and landed on the window sill.
It rested once, but came back twice;
small beady eyes thrice glued on me.
My eyes forsook it; I could not bear
the sight of such true freedom be.
I turned my gaze, refused its call
three times it vanished in the silent eve.
But as the newborn sunrise wakens
and as I grieve my long lost new reprieve
once I remember, twice I regret it,
three times I wish it would return to me.
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