A friend is like a bird, I’d say
with feathers bright as spring.
Come winter that bird is bound to stay
to giggle and to sing.
But some, I’m sure, do mind the snow
Some will start to whisper.
Some won’t wait for spring to show
and fly off into the distance.
Some will leave when ice evolves
You my friend, are one.
You spread your wings a while ago
but how far have you come?