'Empty' Poem by Linda Winchell

There is an empty birdcage
hanging on now an empty hook.
It has some empty cups of food
of some empty eggs I'd cooked.

It has an empty bird, with now her feathers falling off
she had gotten an empty cold, and an empty birdie cough.

She might have gotten sick
in the cool of that dark and empty night?
When I finally went to cover her up
I got an empty birdseye fright!

I seen her laying down
at the bottom of her empty cage
Feeling all my empty guilt
and filled with an empty rage!

How could I have done such a thing?
To leave that window open?
Now my empty birdcaged bird
is nothing but a featherless empty birdie broken.