There was a bird <br />In my bathroom, <br />It came in through the ceiling <br />In through a hole, <br />Left by the rain. <br /> <br />The first day, <br />I was mean. <br />Left the fan on, <br />Left the light on, <br />Hoping he would leave; <br />Like he could. <br /> <br />The first night, <br />I listened to flurrying, <br />Back and forth, <br />Back and forth, <br />Above my toothpaste; <br />He tore at the door, <br />Desperate to get out. <br /> <br />The second day, <br />I awoke exhausted, <br />I wanted to kill him, <br />I wanted the flurry to stop. <br /> <br />The second night, <br />I opened the windows and doors, <br />And waited. <br />In and around <br />And around, <br />And around, <br />He flew. <br /> <br />On chairs and pictures, <br />He tried to figure it out, <br />For what seemed like hours, <br />I chased him around, <br />And around and around he flew. <br /> <br />Admittedly in anger, <br />I came at him <br />With a large winter coat, <br />And like a barrier, <br />It forced him to freedom. <br />Instead of murder, <br />I had saved him. <br /> <br />Experiences, <br />Are the fabric; <br />But it's the choices that count, <br />The decisions that matter. <br /> <br />Even for the birds <br />In the bathroom.<br /><br />Sandra Osborne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/birds-in-the-bathroom/
