There is a bird, firmly grasped, in your hands of iron.
It's been there for so many years, it can no longer fly.
Is it today that finally, you will it's worth discern?
Or will you try to stay another while, content with your supply?

Upon it's capture you did perceive two more perched on a bush.
But in the one already held, more value did you place.
We all know how much hurt can come when too far our luck we push.
So you play it safe and safe you'll be, life is not a race.

But ever since the one you caught, it's at the bush you stare.
Wondering if it's now the time, to try and go for more.
You consider how many birds you could, at one time all ensnare.
And maybe three is all you'd get, but what if it was four?

You wait and wait until the risk is worth it in your eyes.
Until one day so silently the one you had just dies.