Poem of flamingo joy

She slowly dies

From my window,
I seea pink flamingo

as happy as can be.

It has broad curves,
a beautiful shape,
fusia legs,
like a cape.

Been there
for years,
soundly sitting,
she has no fears.

swayed by storms,
warmed by sun,
yet surprising,
she has no fun

Retains balance,
standing up tall
all worn out
arabial cannot crawl.

She slowly dies
all her colour is a fade

she used to be fusia

now just needing aide.

Every flamingo
has to depart
so for arabia this is her last