I thought of this lovely poem around 5:30 this morning.
I woke early one morning,The earth lay cool and stillWhen suddenly a tiny birdPerched on my window sill,
He sang a song so lovelySo carefree and so gay,That slowly all my troublesBegan to slip away.
He sang of far off placesOf laughter and of fun,It seemed his very trilling,brought up the morning sun.
I stirred beneath the coversCrept slowly out of bed,Then gently shut the windowAnd crushed his fucking head.
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The ParkerCam may return, but until it does, it's still a good photo of him.