Robert Fulton Laird

A Tweet

Never known or found
may I forever be
hidden long away
though special I do see

Here find, clear, explained
before it's never writ
summary of a life
that knew but care, than wit

The sun, I spied in awe
the moon, with arm around
seeked external joy
'til within, only found

But once, by rarest chance
as worst yet, seemed, occurred
despite my fearful pattern
amidst, I heard this bird

T'was sweetest song of joy
for a second I forgot
the nothing, thought I was
that I wished I was not

Which proved that evermore
discomfort one may beat
be it long or painful
if one just dwell on a tweet

To an ear this may not make
though at least expressed
a lesson learned in weakness
that was born from but a nest.