I sat there on the cold wood
Swaying back and forth
The breeze in my hair
And the wind blowing North

I smile at the coming of summer
Long days and short nights
The sun would hang high
The birds would have more flights

How I envy the bird
Their graceful form
Their elegant colours
They have that and I have a small dorm

I swing on the wooden plank
Forwards and backwards
At the desolate park
Waiting for the sun to set