Bird of Paradise

You are a fine bird, caws the crow,
from you brightly colored plumes grow.
I am but a simple back bird,
fancy caws I have never heard.

Let’s fly together this great day;
I have something I’d like to say.
We are relatives, do you know?
What do you mean that it is not so?

I watched you fly away from me,
perched on a branch in agony.
You were adorned, and I was plain;
you missed your chance to gain.

How can you throw away friendships?
I treasure my relationships.
One day your colored plumes will dull,
when plain, you will have time to mull.

Then you will see, we’re related,
unfortunately, belated.
Alone you will be on your perch,
staring at our flock on the birch.