Taking a walk to try and clear his mind,
Thinking with his feet and wasting a little time,
He heard chirping and felt somewhat better,
Around the next corner his final endeavour.
He found the puppet sat as if in rest,
With the heart removed from its chest,
He looked upon the chirping birds nest,
And knew this choice was for the best.
He took the chicks and raised them good,
Did the best any mother Sparrow could,
He took them to a field one day,
Thus setting them free to fly away.
No longer making what he once loved,
He was more content to watch the doves fly above,
In his final days he came to realise,
That biological love is both truthful and wise.