Lola

Her feathers painted every hue of blue and her beak sharp to chew even stew. Though she may have been the size of a child's palm her strength was equivalent to a nuclear bomb. Right-to-left she flew soaring for a good bird's-eye view. At least twice a day she ramned into walls, but to her it was just her infinite fall. She guarded the house as a knight, giving every stranger a fright. Everyday with her brought me a bundle of joy, like a child gifted with a new toy. But when she flew away it was a mournful day, I cried knowing she would become the world's prey. My bird, Lola.