SAGA OF THE UNLUCKY PEGION

When I was younger, I had a catapult, A powerful goal, I believed. One day, with stones in hand, I took a shot, feeling grand. But oh no! My aim went wild, And struck a pigeon—poor bird child! Right in the eye, it tumbled down, Flapping weakly on the ground. Guilt struck me like a tonne of bricks, So I rushed to fix my tricks. Bandaged up its tiny head, Fed it crumbs and tucked it in bed. Days went by, it healed up fast, The time had come—it’s free at last! I opened the cage, “Go, my friend!” But fate had more to recommend... It tried to fly, but I held on tight, Afraid it’d fall, or lose its flight. And in my grip, oh what a scene— The pigeon’s wings got caught between! It squawked, it flapped, but luck had flown, Now half its feathers were simply gone! It gave me a glare, then flew away, Too mad at me to even stay. And so I learned, with deep regret, Some mistakes you don’t forget!