The owner fed its bright green parrot a pomegranate.

Because he was a loving man.

He offered parrot a home adorned with golden bars around.

And a small door, that occasionally borrowed freedom from the wind.

The owner fed its bright green parrot a papaya.

And parrot spoke the words he liked to hear.

The bright green parrot with a red collar around its neck.

He told his pals that they envied his comfortable life.

The owner fed its bright green parrot a mango.

Because he was a caring man.

And the parrot sang the tune, owner asked him to.

The owner brought his friends home the other day.

And fed bright green parrot an apricot.

The bright green parrot with a red collar around its neck.

He muttered curses under its breath.

He told his pals he envied them.

Every time his wings longed for a flight.

 He spent his days banging himself on the golden bars.

And a small door, that occasionally shared its darkness with night.

The next morning it was swung open.

By owner to collect bright green wings, gone numb with time.

If possession was a definition of love,

The owner would have been the most romantic of them all.